Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

Archives for August 2011

Hello World: A catching up post

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Phew, I am have in the eye of a hurricane for the last few days, and now am quite ill.

Returned home from Sweden on Wednesday, having got caught in Stockholm’s crawling, bumper to bumper traffic on Tuesday, and missed our flight. Slept in the airport’s very expensive Radisson, and caught the mornings 7 a.m. flight (just!!).
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Zoe’s GCSE results the next day were good, all A*s and A’s. She was disappointed as she had wanted all A*s, the highest possible grade. She missed her Greek A* by 2% on a translation paper, and feels sure they must have inadvertently skipped a page or something, so we are going to get it re-marked. I am pleased and relieved at her results, though she is disappointed.

It struck us that we are going to have girls taking public exams every year from now to 2017, with just a break in 2013 when Irene is in Year 10. 2017!! 2017!!
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I was so looking forward to the Greenbelt Festival, but I seem to have picked up a cold, cough and mild flu. I even got into the car, and drove till the end of the lane, but then found I was coughing and my eyes were closing. One of my life verses is

For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel,
 “In returning and rest you shall be saved;
 in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”
 But you would none of it. Isaiah 30:15.


This verse has saved my physical and emotional health so many times, and contributed greatly to my happiness,  and general sanity. There must have been scores of times when I pulled out of doing something because of this verse.


In returning and in rest, you shall be saved. So since I was physically exhausted by illness, sleepy, with a bad chesty cough, I turned right round, and returned home to my laptop. I will still have three whole days of Greenbelt, and will enjoy them thoroughly for being less ill.  
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And my daughters are in…..India! We arrived home at noon on Wednesday, and they left this afternoon. I was too ill to help them pack, so I just hope they have remembered everything, like cameras!! I fear they have not, alas!! It is traditional to give lavish presents when you return to your hometown, but I was far too weak and ill to contemplate shopping, so sent Zoe and Irene to shop–with a budget. They bought lovely stuff, including a beautiful red cashmere sweater I nearly captured, and they kept within budget, by dint of removing stuff at the checkout. That was good as I never manage to keep within budget when I go present shopping. Nor do I shop as carefully and thoughtfully as those girls did!! (They did buy £150 of boxes of chocolates to give as gifts, but they are just 12 and 16 after all!!) 


I was dreading the busyness of that 48 hour period, but being ill I found almost everything could be delegated. Yay! The stress of the break-in to our campervan and the stolen iPad, iPod, and two laptops, wallet, credit cards etc caused a white streak in my hair to appear overnight!! Gosh! I really cannot go white before I turn 50, so did manage to drag myself to my Iranian hairdresser for an application of natural Iranian henna. I now have coppery-mahogany streaks in my hair!! Roy was a bit amused and incredulous at my vanity–and so was I!! Especially since that seems to be the only thing I have achieved in the last two days!

Psalm 23 for Busy People by Toyi Miyashiro; and Psalm 23, the 12 Step Version

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23rd Psalm for Busy People
By Toki Miyashiro
The Lord is my Pace-setter, I shall not rush;
He makes me to stop and rest for quiet intervals.
He provides me with images of stillness, which restores my serenity.
He leads me in ways of efficiency, through calmness of mind.
And His guidance is my peace.
Even though I have a great many things to accomplish each day
I will not fret, for His presence is here.
His timelessness, His all-importance will keep me in balance.
He prepares refreshment and renewal in the midst of my activity
By anointing my mind with His oils of tranquillity.
My cup of joyous energy overflows.
Surely harmony and effectiveness shall be the fruits of my hours,
For I shall walk in the pace of the Lord and dwell in His house forever.
“Japanese version of Psalm 23″ published in Guidepost Magazine

The Journey of Recovery in Psalm 23 (For People in 12 Step Groups)
Published in A Walk with your Shepherd by William Gaultiere, 1992
The Lord alone is the Shepherd I need
For without him I can’t manage my life.
In his greener pasture my soul does feed;
In him I trust and lay down without strife.
I drink from the still waters of his love
Then I look close to see me as he can.
When I fall I call for help from above
And he restores me to my feet again.
He guides me to the path that’s right for me;
To all the other paths I must say “no.”
Though the path goes through a long dark valley
I won’t fear since he’s there to help me grow.
With his rod he disciplines me wisely
And helps me set boundaries that protect.
With his staff he always guides me safely
And inspects me when I pass under it.
He leads me up to a mountain plateau
There are enemies there I must forgive.
His oil heals and anoints so I can go;
His cup for me oer-flows so I can give.
My steps back home I know I can retrace
Because he follows and has made me new.
In life’s journey I look to Shepherd’s face
And he guides me to home all the way through.

Psalm 23: A David Psalm
From The Message By Eugene Peterson, 1994
God, my shepherd! I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through Death Valley,
I’m not afraid when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing.
Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God for the rest of my life.

A seal like holiday: Lake Vanern and Lake Vattern. But challenges ahead!!

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The break-in to our motor home was a bit of a shock. I suppose we were very trusting/careless. Roy wasn’t sure if he locked the motor home. He left the two laptops on the bed, with just a towel over them, left Irene’s ipod touch charging, and left my iPad, in a backpack in the unlocked cupboard. All very professionally taken in the hour we left the camper.

We probably will travel with laptops again–we are digital citizens after all, and the internet–researching things, checking things, blogging, running our business, reading news, writing to people, being wired–is +part of our lifeblood!! However, we will, almost surely, carry them with us in a backpack, and not leave anything valuable in the car!!
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The rest of the holiday, however, was tranquil. I enjoyed lolling seal-like on the rocks on Lake Vanern, the largest lake in Sweden, four times the size of greater London. Irene and Zoe and  Roy swam out to islands, and I joined them a bit but sensibly desisted when the water felt so cold that it was as if I was being bitten. Lake Vanern stretches as far as the eye can reach. It’s like an inland ocean. I had two days praying on the rocks while the girls swam, made barbeques and explored. I feel all prayed up, and envisioned, and have a clear vision, purpose and direction for the year to come.
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Yesterday: Vadstena on Lake Vattern. The Klosterkyrkan was grey, imposing and “humble” on the outside was built according to the specification of Saint Birgitta, Patron Saint of Sweden and Europe (a Swedish Joan of Arc) who saw the yet unbuilt church, abbey and monastery in visions. Inside, like a Tardis, it has rich, colourful medieval art.

The Palace nearby is on the shores of Lake Vattern. We walked by it and enjoyed a most beautiful sunset.

Had a lovely day canoeing on Stockholm’s archipelago today.
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But, but, but…somewhat embarrassed to admit this…. We really are experienced travellers, and generally come to Europe 6 times a year, in every school half term. However, we totally underestimated Stockholm traffic. Thought we had left plenty of time to get to the airport, but the traffic at 5 p.m. was  a nightmare, we crawled at a snail’s pace, and missed our flight!!

So are flying out tomorrow! Spending the night in an expensive 4 star hotel. Disorganization is expensive.
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I have another prayer request, PLEASE, dear blog readers. The first 48 hours in England are going to be super challenging. We arrive at midday on Wednesday (rather than 10 p.m. Tuesday). Zoe and Irene leave for India on their own midday Friday to visit my mother. It’s their second time flying alone to India.  We leave for the Greenbelt Christian artsy festival on Friday evening.

In those 2 days, we have to get lots of present shopping done for their India trip, get badly needed haircuts for me and Zoe!!, get packed for India and Greenbelt, wrap up business stuff, run laundry, report losses to insurance, all while keeping the house tidy for our wonderful friend and housesitter! And Zoe gets her GCSE (national schoole exams taken at 16) results, which might determine what she chooses for her A-lovels. All doable with prayer and keeping on an even keel. Please pray for us.

Dreaming in Scandinavia: In love with Scandinavia

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I love Scandinavia.


The reason one loves places is mysterious and buried in childhood. I loved exploring Norway a couple of summers ago. When I mentioned this to a Norwegian, he asked, mystified, “Why did you want to go to Norway?”


Why indeed? I think it comes down to a book of Norse mythology I had when I was little, which I read numerous times.


Odin, Freya, Thor, Loki, Balder, the Ragnarok: It resonated with me. I longed to see Scandinavia, which was Asgaard, as far as I was concerned.
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I lived in America for 17 years–in Columbus, Ohio, New York, California, Williamsburg, Virginia, and Minneapolis,Minnesota. The only places in which I felt happy and at home were Binghamton, New York and Minneapolis, Minnesota,


Minnesota was full of Scandinavian-Americans–Norwegians Swedes and Danes. I felt the most accepted and at ease and comfortable there. I also picked up a bit of a taste for the food!!


Funnily enough, though I’ve always travelled as much as I could afford, it’s only recently that I’ve been able to visit Scandinavia. I think the fact that it was reputedly the most expensive region on earth put me off. Travel when one hemorrhages money is no fun at all!! 


However, both our trips have been in camper vans; we’ve picnicked for one or two meals from the excellent grocery store fare, eaten out for just one or two meals a day, and have not found it too expensive. The lovely Allemannsratt, every man’s right, allows you to camp or motor home free and wild, with certain commonsense restrictions. I think few things compare with the thrill of waking up facing the sea one day, a lake another, in the midst of a pine forest on the third day… 
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I just love Scandinavia in summer–the clear crisp air; the expanses of water; the lakes, the pine and spruce forests, the rocky beaches,  the relaxed, quietly happy people who leave you alone as long as you are not being inconsiderate, but will be helpful, polite and friendly if you need help, and who all speak English with charming accents; the ghosts of the Vikings and Thor in the strapping athletic blonde long-haired giants; the excellent food, the sense of relaxation, the beauty, the wilderness.


Finances and health permitting, I would like to return to Scandinavia for the next two summers–to Iceland and Denmark, perhaps. 


Dreaming on Sillvik Beach, Gothenburg, Sweden

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Today was one of those unplanned perfect days which travel sometimes hands us as a gift.

We asked one of those friendly smiley Swedes (Gothenburg, reputedly the friendliest place in Sweden, is renowned for them) to recommend a beach.

Sillvik which we went to was gorgeous–rugged, rocky, all yellow and purple: purple heather, yellow wildflowers.

Last night we sat on the rocks, seemingly just made for seals, watching the sunset.

Today was so perfect, the weather so springlike, just right, and the bay so peaceful, that I basically lay on the rocks all day, resting with God, talking some, listening some, just resting. (Luckily, the rest of my family are more mountain-goatish, so they hiked far out, retrieving me for an excellent Swedish meal in a nearby cafe.)

It was time to pray through my life.

I have a dream and vision for where I might go over the next few years–with my writing and my blogging– and wanted to check it out with Christ and make sure it is Christ’s vision too–and that it comes from Christ. I think it does.

It is foolish to invest time or energy in anything, any plan, any vision, unless you are sure that it is also God’s plan and vision for your time and life. “If the Lord does not build the house, in vain do the builders labour. In vain is your earlier rising, your going later to bed.”

I think what the dream I have comes from God. Lying on the rocks, I could sense Jesus next to me.

“Lord,” I said.

“Yes?” he answered, and I could feel him turn to me, smiling, knowing already the question I was going to ask him with such intensity and excitement namely,

“Is this dream and vision I have indeed your dream and vision for me?”

And I felt him smile and nod.

I believe it is, and will increasingly check it out with him in the next days and weeks.

As I told the kids later, the most significant things in a Christian’s life are not necessarily what Wordsworth calls,

The best portion of a good man’s life
His little, nameless unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love. 

but the actions and decisions which spring out of prayer.  

 

Dag Hammarskjold, Sweden’s Noble Politician and Secret Mystic

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Enjoyed the Domkyrkan in Uppsala, Scandinavia’s largest cathedral, built in competition with the people of Trondheim, Norway. Very pretty, with flowery paintings on the noble stone.

It had a shrine to Dag Hammarskjold, the noble Swedish politician, who was in secret a committed evangelical Christian and a mystic.
Dag Hammarskjold–son of a Prime Minister of Sweden– was interesting: His vivid and intense spiritual life was kept secret while he ascended politically–Chairman of the Reserve Bank, Cabinet Minister, Secretary-General of the United Nations. After his probable assassination while trying to broker peace in the Congo,his journal, Vagmarken, Markings, which he had written since he was 20 was discovered–and published.
And here are some reflections from Markings

For all that has been
 — Thanks. 
For all that shall be
 — Yes.
We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny. But what we put into it is ours. 

 
Forgiveness is the answer to the child’s dream of a miracle by which what is broken is made whole again, what is soiled is again made clean.

God does not die on the day when we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason.
I don’t know Who — or what — put the question, I don’t know when it was put. I don’t even remember answering. But at some moment I did answer Yes to Someone — or Something — and from that hour I was certain that existence is meaningful and that, therefore, my life, in self-surrender, had a goal.
Never, “for the sake of peace and quiet,” deny your own experience or convictions.

The longest journey
Is the journey inwards.
Your cravings as a human animal do not become a prayer just because it is God whom you ask to attend to them.

 

Dreaming in Uppsala: Carolus Linnaeus’s Garden

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So, here we are in Uppsala. Drawn here largely by Carolus Linnaeus who invented the botanical system of classification for minerals, plants and animals. First name for the genus, the second for the species, as in Homo Sapiens, the wise man, or the knowing man.

An inspirational professor, he packed his students around the world to return with botanical samples; they even joined Captain Cook’s expedition to Australia. Linnaeus joined and financed some of the earliest plant-collecting expedition to the Arctic, and we were thrilled to see these rare plants in his garden.

We thoroughly enjoyed the garden–especially since, thanks to Linnaeus, we could identify the plants. As plant lovers who love travelling, we make a point of learning the Latin names as well as the common names of plants we grow and interesting plants we encounter, so that botanical gardens everywhere are equally interesting–even when the common names are in Swedish!!


Linnaeus had a sense of humour–naming a small and insignificant weed after one of his critics. He started his botanical walks through his gardens early each morning, in his nightshirt, to the astonishment of his students. “Nature does not wait for powder and wig,” he’d explain.


A Swedish saying, “God created, Linnaeus organized.”


Organization is in fact a much valued and dominant Swedish trait!

In which I have my mind and experience broadened

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 Life in a small English village can have its surprises. We knock on our neighbour’ door (who runs multiple small businesses, jam, and eggs and hens) to discover he is in “a session.” A what? Turns out he is a medium, and is in a séance. He runs a spiritualist church. Oh!!

And, over the last month, I realized–somewhat to my embarrassment at how long I had taken to realize this–that the two of the people, outside my nuclear family who contribute the most to the smooth and happy (in one case) and wise and happy (in the other) functioning of my life were both gay!!
One of these is a lovely Eastern European who comes over two or three, times a week to help out with cleaning and odd jobs in our house and garden. He is very practical and basically does whatever needs to be done without being asked to, can fix anything, clean everything, make anything work. Builds things like bookshelves or raised beds for the garden, repairs garden equipment, mows grass, prunes hedges and brambles, converting it to mulch.
He drives the girls around when we need an extra pair of hands, runs the laundry when necessary, folding it beautifully, sorts out kitchen drawers and the fridge. He helps out with pet care. He tidies the girls’ rooms. I have come to rely on his visits, when he sweeps through the house, getting everything into the right place, and everything clean and well-functioning. He is the most likely person to know where things are in the house since he tidies it weekly. He housesits when we travel.  
I wondered why a pleasant, cheerful and superlatively kind man like him was not snapped up. He’s become a friend of ours, since he’s here so much, and as I said, has become quite indispensable to me. And so when I suddenly noticed a thick gold ring on his wedding finger, I asked, surprised, “You’re married?”
 He put his head to one side, and toyed with the ring almost coyly, rotating it lovingly. “It’s a ring,” he said, “A gold ring.”
Okaaayy, I left it at that.
And somewhat reluctantly googled him. Yes, he is married.  To a nice young man who had also come over to help him with some carpentry projects for us.  Oh dear. How clueless of me!
I am so glad I did not know until we had all got very fond of him, because, to be honest, I might not have hired a gay man to work so intimately with our family in our house and garden, and to drive our girls when necessary and tidy their rooms etc. etc.. Not out of homophobia, but because it would simply have been too exotic for me. Too unfamiliar. But now, of course, it makes no difference to me. He’s a fabulous person, and I know it.
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There is another cool person I know whom I’ve recently discovered is gay: a senior and well-respected Anglican clergyman. Roy and I trust his wisdom, counsel, perspective and sense of humour. He can pick out blind spots in our peripheral vision, and help us see them. He can suggest very practical solutions to the problems we face, so much more that we are amazed we didn’t see them.  Can defuse tension with humour.  
His insight and wisdom is startling; I wish I had his ability to see people and their problems so clearly, and to suggest practical solutions. We value his blend of erudition, common-sense and humour, and are fond of him. Again, his sexuality, of course, does not matter to me at all now, but, had I known it because I came to respect and value this very clever man for his wisdom, experience, kindness and sense of humour, he would have seemed too exotic for us, his experience too alien to ours.
Sooo…. time for my mind to be broadened.
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Is homosexuality innate, ontological and genetic or a choice? With the 20/20 vision of hindsight, I would say ontological, rather than a choice. I am now amazed I didn’t immediately pick it up in both these superb people. (Neither did Roy, I hasten to add!)