Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

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Peaceful at Pentecost

By Anita Mathias

The Thames near Sandford-on-Thames, Oxford

Pentecost–the coming of the Spirit to a frightened and fearful huddle. It is one of my favourite Christian feasts, so hopeful… The Spirit comes not because we are worthy, often not even because we have asked him to, but because he is good, and kind, and desires to bless. He comes in his own way, on demand, to the humble repentant heart, Jesus says, and in the way He chooses, like water which softens hearts, like wind which cleanses them, like a dove which warms them, like fire which sets them ablaze.

I am in an in-between season. Zoe my eldest is wrapping up her Oxford University degree in theology (prayers welcomed for her Final exams); she then has a church internship at St. James Church, Hoxton, London, part of the Stepney internship scheme. Irene is taking her last school exams ever, and, contingent on results, hopes to enter a six year course in Medicine at Christ Church College, Oxford.

I am working on a long book, the idea of which came to me decades ago!! I cannot say God told me to write it, but I can say that God called me to write, and this is the book which I feel led or impelled to write, for reasons God alone knows, and which I am slowly understanding. I am working steadily, revising 3000 words a day, while knowing that many may not make it into the final draft.

I am taking an eight week Mindfulness course at Oxford University. I am half-way through it, but the shift has been seismic, in my mental state, in my serenity, in my sleep, in my productivity. As I guess a sculptor would feel foolish or superstitious about describing his sculpture midway, so I will not quantify or describe it just yet, but whoa, am I glad I am taking it!

It’s a beautiful spring, warm golden weather, and once or twice a week, I go on a long walk, increasing my mileage by 10% a week, as the gurus recommend. (Don’t be too impressed; I’m at 13 miles a week, in my 5th week of increases.) Chris McDougall who wrote the great running book Born to Run (and has converted me, amid much ouchiness to forefoot running) says something like, “If you have a problem that a four hour run can’t solve, then you ain’t going to solve it.”

Four hour runs I doubt I will ever do; I am a great believer in the minimum effective dose, just enough for health, but I have swapped out listening to audiobooks on my walks for prayer and problem-solving. That’s something else I’ve learned from my mindfulness course, listening to the wisdom of the body, and what its tense places are telling me; quietening down with deep, slow breathing, until the wisdom of the spirit emerges, the wisdom of the Spirit within me, the spirit who is breath, ruach, who Jesus transmitted to the disciples when he breathed on them.

Filed Under: In which I chase the wild goose of the Holy Spirit, In which I Dream Beneath the Spires of Oxford Tagged With: Born to Run, Chris McDougall, forefoot running, holy spirit, Mindfulness, Minimum Effective Dose, Oxford University, Pentecost, Ruach, running, The Holy Spirit

Visiting Blenheim Palace: Thoughts on Creativity, Envy and the Good Life

By Anita Mathias

View from the palace, showing the island.
Image credit.

I’ve lived in Oxford for 14 years now (in two instalments) and try to walk around the Blenheim Gardens and grounds once a year, if not once a season. I love the lakes: they get me.

And, often, when I visit the gorgeous gardens of stately homes, I feel a twinge of envy. I would not feel envy if they had earned them by their labour as Julian Fellowes, creator of Downton Abbey earned his seventeeth century manor house in Dorset. The immense inherited wealth in Britain, as in Blenheim or Chatsworth, sometimes does make me feel envious, though both estates, of course, leverage and make their inherited largesse to make even more money, as is necessary in a country with high taxation, like the UK.

“I am a bit envious,” I tell Roy. “What beauty to enjoy every day! And just to have inherited it!!”

But then, as we walk around, I realise that it would take a particular temperament to live happily in Blenheim Palace, and that I might not have it.

It would, oddly, take much tolerance for imperfection. As I walked through the Secret Garden, my fingers itched as I saw weeds and plants needing dead-heading. And this despite a crew of gardeners.

You have to make peace with a crew of gardeners who cannot keep up with the garden–just as you yourself cannot!

You sacrifice privacy–for running a palace and its grounds must take an veritable armada of cleaners, housekeepers, groundsmen and gardeners.

You are pierced with worries, for the ultimate responsibility of keeping an ageing building and its furnishings shiny ultimately falls on to you.

And in this daily piercing with mundane responsibility, even with the money to throw at each hydra head of things which need to be done, you surely would not have time to be a writer.

So, though living in Blenheim Palace, with its gorgeous grounds, would be many people’s definition of the good life, it would not be the good life for me. Too many worries, and distractions. Too little privacy!

* * *

I read an American survey a decade or so ago which asked people how much money they needed to live happily; the respondents, across the income levels, said $10,000. In other words, everyone wanted just a little bit more money.
Oddly enough though, the really moneyed classes have produced relatively few creative people–writers, artists, film-makers. Keeping up with one’s lifestyle appears to siphon off energy and ambition. Each extra thing you own adds stress and worry and distraction to your life. And, for those artists who eventually became very wealthy, their best work was in the period of relative poverty.

Christianly speaking, envy, I guess, is rebellion against the plan God has chosen for your life… the IQ, family income, gifts, nationality, he has given you. At times, one wishes God had given us more–I have certainly have–but we develop both our characters and our gifts as we seek to work against constraints (of time, of our own talent, of our weakness of character, of the shortage of money or energy or strength).

Envy is wanting to live in someone else’s story–a futile wish!!–instead of trying to write the best story we can with our own life. And one can always revise the story of one’s life to make it read better. Small leveraged changes will inevitably bring about other bigger and bigger changes.

And the gifts and character we develop as we struggle in this “vale of soul-making” are certainly more precious than if we had them handed to us on a platter, like Blenheim Palace is handed down to generation after generation of the Marlboroughs.

 

Detail of the entrance to Blenheim Palace
The main entrance courtyard to Blenheim Palace
View of the back of palace and water garden

 

A close up of the mazelike hedges

 

Intricate detail at the top of 40 foot columns

 

A lion and a hapless rooster (?)
The top of the archway leading out of the palace
An intriguing sculpture at the top of a pair of pillars

 

A particularly beautiful pheasant

We came to Blenheim to walk in the gardens.  It was daffodil season

This photo shows only a quarter of the field of daffodils
Daffodils as far as the eye can see
Densely planted containers of daffodils

The Secret Garden, pictured below, was renovated in 2003, and opened to the public in 2004.

Cherry blossoms by a Japanese style pond
with a single mallard
Two maples just coming into leaf:

 

Ranunculus
Magnolia

 

Viburnum — very fragrant

A couple of shots of the Italian garden, which is not open to visitors

Topiary birds around the edge
Italian Garden, Blenheim Palace

The gardens are filled with statuary.  |Here is one of the smaller ones on the top of a pillar.

Finally, the estate is full of wonderfully gnarled trees:

 

Filed Under: In which I Dream Beneath the Spires of Oxford, In which I explore writing and blogging and creativity Tagged With: Blenheim Palace, Creativity, Envy, the good life

England: A Rhapsody

By Anita Mathias

I love England. I have now lived for at least 14 years each in three continents–Asia, America and Europe. If I could live anywhere I chose, I would choose England (as I have). (And if I could choose any English town to live in, I would choose Oxford–as I have.)

As I walked down the country lane outside my house, a cup of tea in hand, I saw a herd of cows, very attractive Guernseys, in our farmer-neighbour’s field. It was a beautiful bird-loud day. It could have been out of a Constable painting or a Dylan Thomas poem. Timeless England!

I read about 500 illegal immigrants living in tent cities in Calais, hoping to come to England. The writer explained why. He said, “Can you imagine 500 men, women and children sleeping rough in Dover?” The council would do something about it.

I thought of what V.S. Naipaul in The Enigma of Arrival calls “the curious humanity of the English state.”

I do love this country, warts and all! I love their sense of decency and fair play. I love the fact that the police prosecute for racist tweets, an everyday occurrence in other countries. I love that, in this country, calling someone a “bigot” is one of the worst things you can say, in the judgement of both accused and accuser.

Filed Under: In which I Dream Beneath the Spires of Oxford Tagged With: England, Oxford

A River Walk on the Thames Path from Sandford Lock to Folly Bridge, via Iffley Lock

By Anita Mathias

Enjoy this post by my husband Roy on one of our favourite walks by the River Thames in Oxford, incredibly beautiful and a great place to relax. Roy takes his camera, I take my jumbled thoughts. He comes back with photographs, and I come back with peace and a blog post.

Roy thinks we should walk the 51 miles of the Thames Path to London, some day or week. He’s serious, but I pretend he’s joking.

Now, over to Roy

The Kings Arms at Sandford Lock is great place to start a riverside walk.  Upstream,  it is 3 miles, and perhaps the nicest river walk in Oxford,  past river boats, flocks of grazing geese, Iffley lock, Iffley Meadow, and the college boathouses to Folly Bridge and Christchurch Meadow.  The section from Iffley Lock upstream is paved.  Downstream, it is more rural, and one can follow the Thames Path right into London.

Sandford Lock to Folly Bridge via Iffley Lock

The green at Sanford Lock is a wonderful place for a picnic.

The green at Sanford Lock is a wonderful place for a picnic. Opposite the Kings Arms, with its outdoor garden.

[Read more…]

Filed Under: In which I Dream Beneath the Spires of Oxford

Otmoor Nature Reserve, Oxford (RSPB): Oxfordshire Walks

By Anita Mathias

 

Otmoor Nature Reserve is one of the my favourite places to walk in Oxford. It’s usually totally deserted, so it’s a great place to walk, pray, think. A watery world of sea and sky, lagoon-like ponds reflecting the sky, punctuated by the honks of wild geese and swans, and the quacks of ducks,and the cries of herons and seagulls.

Here’s a picture blog on it, from Roy

Otmoor Nature Reserve is a tranquil area of marshland with a few gravel roads visitors can walk.  (The reserve has no postcode, but OX3 9TD will take you into Otmoor Lane, and just follow this road to the reserve car park at the end.)  To see birds well, you need binoculars, or even a telescope.  We went to enjoy the scenery.

This seems like a man made waterway.  It is in the fenced RSPB reserve.

This seems like a man made waterway. It is in the fenced RSPB reserve.

 

Reflections in the still water.

Reflections in the still water.

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View of the wetlands from the (very comfortable) hide.

A pair of swans through the Echinops.

A pair of swans through the Echinops.

Pair of swans.

Pair of swans.

Nesting swan, with two Canada geese.

Nesting swan, with two Canada gees

 

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A male pheasant with one of his six females.

 

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It was a cold windy day, mostly sunny, with occasional rain.

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Canada geese

Canada geese (iphone photo)

The reserve is known for blackthorn.  Similar to hawthorn, but can be distinguished because it flowers earlier.

Black thorn flowers.

Pure white cascades of blackthorn flowers.

I was surprised by the quality of the iphone photo below:

Willow catkins (please correct me id I'm wrong,  iphone photo)

Willow catkins (please correct me if I’m wrong, iphone photo)

Moss encrusted, thatched cottage (Beckley, Oxfordshire)

Moss encrusted, thatched cottage (Beckley, Oxfordshire. iphone photo)

A loose rooster, Bekley Oxfordshire.  (iphone photo)

A loose rooster, Bekley Oxfordshire. (iphone photo)

Hen running loose in Beckley, Oxfordshire.

Hen running loose in Beckley, Oxfordshire.

Filed Under: In which I Dream Beneath the Spires of Oxford

The Bluebell Woods and Peacocks of Harcourt Arboretum, Oxford: Oxfordshire Walks

By Anita Mathias

A guest post by Roy Mathias

Harcourt Arboretum lies on lands once owned by the Norman Harcourt family.   We went to see the wonderful bluebell woods, and also saw the peacocks descended from those that the Harcourts introduced over 100 years ago.

A carpet of bluebells, Harcourt Arboretum.

A carpet of bluebells, Harcourt Arboretum.

The bluebells grow in a grove of 300 oak trees planted in 1847.  The area is preserved as a small natural ecosystem, with exotic plants removed.

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The peacocks are very tame, but they do like to slowly turn as they display their tails.

Peacock emitting its characteristic ear screech.

Peacock emitting its characteristic ear piercing screech.

Peacock: The classic view.

Peacock: The classic view.

Peacock: Rear view.

Peacock: Rear view.

Here are just a few of the numerous pictures I took of this photogenic subject

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Displaying peacock, close up.

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Displaying peacock, close up.

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The peacock shakes its tail feathers is it closes them after displaying.

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The eyes on the peacock’s tail.

The flowering trees included magnolias (below) as well as rhododendrons, azaleas  and camellias.

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Perfectly white magnolia petals, Harcourt Arboretum.

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A fern coming out of dormancy.

Dryopteris Affinis

Dryopteris Affinis

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One of the many old oaks,  Harcourt Arboretum.

One of the many old oaks, Harcourt Arboretum.

Harcourt has a number of distinct areas — large pines and redwoods, flowering trees, maples, hollys, two ponds, woodland, and a summer flower meadow.

Pinus Nigra (subsp. Laricio), Harcourt Arboretum.

Pinus Nigra (subsp. Laricio), Harcourt Arboretum.

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New maple leaves, Harcourt Arboretum.

New maple leaves, Harcourt Arboretum.

09-DSC Autumn and Spring colours mix, Harcourt Arboretum. N7586

Autumn and Spring colours mix, Harcourt Arboretum.

P.S. from Anita: Don’t you want to visit? You really must!

Filed Under: In which I Dream Beneath the Spires of Oxford

7 Quick Takes: Kew Gardens, Wisley, Leighton House, Univ. Parks, Oxford,Daughters, Progress on NY Goals,

By Anita Mathias

1 We are taking a walking course in London, with Joanna Hall of The Walking Diet.

With her walking technique, I am walking faster—much faster—and, more importantly, really, really enjoying it. I am walking about 4 miles a day around London, when I am there, and Oxford.

2 Leighton House

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Frederick, Lord Leighton was a Pre-Raphaelite artist who was immensely rich privileged and never needed to work for his living. Unlike othesr born to his happy state of affairs, however, he did make something of his life.

When he declared his intention of becoming an artist, his parents opposed it, unless he became a preeminent artist. And so he assured them he would become one of the preeminent artists of his generation. And he did—becoming the President of the Royal Academy.

Leighton, who was probably gay, never married. His gorgeous house is dedicated to beauty. There are beautiful Moorish rooms much like the Alhambra and the Topkapi Palace in Istanbul, all tiles, and gold mosaics and fountains. The light-flooded enormous studio is to die for!

And, in line with the aesthetic movement, beauty for beauty’s sake, he has a mishmash of  lovely things from throughout the world in every room—peacock fans, Japanese vases, inlaid ivory Ottoman chests!! There is even a Narcissus room, after the Narcissus room in the just-discovered Pompeii. His bedroom, oddly, is a near-monastic cell amid all this magnificence.

High stained glass window in the Arab Hall, Leighton House.

High stained glass window in the Arab Hall, Leighton House.

Dome, the Arab Hall, Leighton House.

Dome, the Arab Hall, Leighton House.

Tile panel, the Arab Hall, Leighton House.

Tile panel, the Arab Hall, Leighton House.

3 Britain’s glory is her gardens. The ponds with wild ducks, the spring bulbs, soft birdsong—oh, exploring them in early spring mid-week with all the retirees is an otherworldly, almost mystical experience.

Here are some images from Kew Gardens

Huge Chestnut, Kew Gardens.

Huge Chestnut, Kew Gardens.

A variety of  water birds.

A variety of water birds (Kew).

A drift of Crocus, Kew.

A drift of Crocus, Kew.

Squirrels are everywhere in London parks.

Squirrels are everywhere in London parks.

and the Oxford Botanic Garden

Crocus under a mossy tree, Oxford Botanical garden.

Crocus under a mossy tree, Oxford Botanic Garden.

Tulips planted at the base of a tree, Oxford Botanical Garden.

Tulips planted at the base of a tree, Oxford Botanic Garden.

 

Banana flower, greenhouse, Oxford Botanical Garden.

Banana flower, greenhouse, Oxford Botanic Garden.

Moored punts, filled with rain water, by Magdalen Bridge, Oxford Botanical Garden.

Moored punts, filled with rain water, by Magdalen Bridge, Oxford Botanic Garden.

 

A view from Christchurch Meadow.

A view from Christchurch Meadow.

4 And Wisley Garden in Surrey

Garden sculpture, Wisley.

Garden sculpture, Wisley. (iphone)

 

A colorful crocus drift, Wisley.

A colorful crocus drift, Wisley. (iphone)

With, equally colorful ducks.

With, equally colorful ducks. (iphone)

 

Miniature narcissus gazing into the water, Wisley.

Miniature narcissus gazing into the water, Wisley. (iphone)

5 We walked yesterday through a flooded University Parks in Oxford. What a strange half-watery, other-worldly place it was—familiar fields under water, the river and ponds having burst their banks, the meadows now the habitation of swans, ducks, coots and glebes. There were very few people around, and it felt like a thin place, other worlds very present.

Flooded fields by University Parks. (iphone pic)

Flooded fields by University Parks. (iphone pic)

The small duck pond has been engulfed by the flooding river (University Parks, Feb, 2013, iphone)

The small duck pond has been engulfed by the flooding river (University Parks, Feb, 2013, iphone)

Hopkins felt that about Oxford

Towery city and branchy between towers;
Cuckoo-echoing, bell-swarmèd, lark-charmèd, rook-racked, river-rounded;

Yet ah! this air I gather and I release
He lived on; these weeds and waters, these walls are what
He haunted who of all men most sways my spirits to peace;

He wrote that of Duns Scotus. I feel like that about him.

6 My daughters

Irene, 13, now has a blog, Life Among the Cupcakes. I begged her to have a blog about books, since she reads a lot and writes like an angel, but she sagely explained that she must be herself, and not me, and her passion is baking!! Humph!

Other Irene quotes—I think everyone should be a Buddhist. Even if they are a Christian.

Irene stayed home one day to work at our family business (a publishing company). It was a “take your daughter to work day,” but we work from home. And the phone kept ringing. The doorbell kept ringing. She was disgruntled and disgusted. “People don’t realize how important I am. They don’t realize I have stayed home from school just to work!” Work said with utter contempt compared with the sublimity of school, which she loves!

Zoe is doing a lot of talks at her school’s Christian Union which she runs, and at the Pathfinders (10-14) group at Church. She has been voted as “Most Likely to be the First Female Archbishop of Canterbury” for her school’s yearbook. Studying theology at Jesus College, Cambridge, however, is a more immediate item on her agenda.

7 New Year’s Resolutions

I now wish I had followed Zen Habits sage advice, and made just one resolution a month. Next year.

However, here is my progress on my resolutions.

Weight

Weight (lb) Cum. Loss
Jan 1st 233
Jan 13th 231.8 -1.2
Jan 20th 229.2 -3.8
Feb-29  227.8  -5.2
Mar-20  227.2 -5.8 lbs

 

Week of Goal Km Actually done KM
Jan-07 29.6
Jan-14 33.6 Ice 13.6
Jan-21 14.96 snow 16.4
Jan-28 19.69 23.36
Feb-28  25.69  28.37
Mar-10 31 35km

Linking up with The Conversion Diary–http://www.conversiondiary.com/

and Leigh Kramer–http://www.leighkramer.com/blog/2013/03/what-im-into-march-2013-edition.html

 

 

Organising my house

Before

Before

Before

After

After!!

After!!

Next week’s challenge

Mar 20 (Before)

Mar 20 (Before)

 

 

Filed Under: In which I Dream Beneath the Spires of Oxford, In which I Travel and Dream Tagged With: Goals, kew gardens, leighton house, university parks, walking, wisley

Walking Away from the Dreaming Spires; Walking Away from Joy

By Anita Mathias

Dreaming Spires Photo

The Dreaming Spires
(credit)

Well, my daughter Zoe is in Cambridge today for her Entrance interview, and I have been thinking about Oxbridge interviews.

Fielding describes being interviewed to read English at Cambridge by Kingsley Amis, “the world’s greatest satirist,” who had recently written Lucky Jim.

Asked “What novel would you take on a train journey?” he says—no, not Lucky Jim, but Wuthering Heights—“I drone on about pathetic fallacies and thanatoid visions – just the kind of bilious bollocks the world’s greatest satirist needs to hear from a callow wanker on a sofa.”

Amis abruptly and scornfully terminates the interview. “My school is later informed that I am “woeful” and “without obvious potential“.

* * *

Here’s C.S. Lewis’s description from Surprised by Joy of arriving in Oxford for his entrance interview.

My first taste of Oxford was comical enough. I had made no arrangements about quarters and, having no more luggage than I could carry in my hand, I sallied out of the railway station on foot to find either a lodging-house or a cheap hotel; all agog for “dreaming spires” and “last enchantments.”

My first disappointment at what I saw could be dealt with. Towns always show their worst face to the railway. But as I walked on and on I became more bewildered. Could this succession of mean shops really be Oxford? But I still went on, always expecting the next turn to reveal the beauties, and reflecting that it was a much larger town than I had been led to suppose.

Only when it became obvious that there was very little town left ahead of me, that I was in fact getting to open country, did I turn round and look. There behind me, far away, never more beautiful since, was the fabled cluster of spires and towers.

I had come out of the station on the wrong side and been all this time walking into what was even then the mean and sprawling suburb of Botley. I did not see to what extent this little adventure was an allegory of my whole life.” 

Or anyone’s!

I live in Oxford now. It is 97 years since Lewis came up for his interview, but the contrast between the golden, gleaming, dreaming spires, and mean Botley is still striking.

* * *

In the famous Alpha course, leaders often tell this story attributed to a Native American elder,

There are two dogs inside me. The black dog is mean. The white dog is good.
The black dog fights the white dog all day.

When asked which dog wins, the elder reflected for a moment and replied;

The one I feed the most.

* * *

Yeah, it’s another way of gauging our thoughts, actions and choices, isn’t it? Are they leading towards the Heavenly City of the Dreaming Spires in which the Lord, high and exalted, is seated on a throne; and the train of his robe fills the temple with glory, while above him seraphim fly, calling to one another:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty;
the whole earth is full of his glory.” (Isaiah 6)

Or, instead of “the fabled cluster of spires and towers,” are the thoughts and emotions I am harbouring leading to a mean, small-minded suburb of judgements, negativity, jealousy and competitiveness?

On a bad, bored day, I have to check my thoughts many times and ask—Do I want to live here, in this small, claustrophobic negative suburb?

When someone annoys me and my thoughts spiral repetitively, rehearsing the many and manifest failings of this person, as they gradually, in my mind, turn from grey to black to horrible–I need to stop and ask myself,  “Is this the address I want to live at? Obsessing about this silly person’s silly faults? Or do I want to dwell in the secret places of the Most High?

* * *

“Stop, drop and roll,” my kids were taught when in elementary school in America—basic fire safety.

Well, when I find myself spiralling into negativity, or fear or worry, I have my own routine, “Stop, drop, repent.”

A)  Force myself to think about the person’s good points; thank God for the goodness in them,

B)   Meditate on whether I myself have ever been guilty of the annoyingness I see them. And so use this “beam research” as an energizing spur to repentance

C)   Turn to Jesus, the Lord upon the throne. Ask for his Holy Spirit to fill me.

D)  And remember my goals, long and short term, ask him for strength to fulfil them. Move from the negative to the positive; from the mean streets to the golden spires and towers; from a pointless drain on my energy to being re-energized.

* * *

 Yes, turn to Jesus. For there is life

Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. For my flesh is real food, and my blood is real drink. I give my flesh for the life of the world. (John 6,53, 55).

And I change my address. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood dwells in me, and I in him. (John 6:56). No longer will I dwell in smallness and negativity. I will escape to the secret places of the Most High. Yeah, I will dwell smuggled in the recesses of Jesus, the Rock.

E8PCC7EPSZVE

 

Filed Under: In which I Dream Beneath the Spires of Oxford, In which I pursue happiness and the bluebird of joy Tagged With: dreaming spires, joy, Oxford, white dog and black dog

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My memoir: Rosaries, Reading, Secrets https://amzn.to/42xgL9t
Oxford, England. Writer, memoirist, podcaster, blogger, Biblical meditation teacher, mum

Hi Friends, I have taped a meditation; do listen a Hi Friends, I have taped a meditation; do listen at this link: https://anitamathias.com/2025/04/08/the-kingdom-of-god-is-here-already-yet-not-yet-here-2/
It’s on the Kingdom of God, of which Christ so often spoke, which is here already—a mysterious, shimmering internal palace in which, in lightning flashes, we experience peace and joy, and yet, of course, not yet fully here. We sense the rainbowed presence of Christ in the song which pulses through creation. Christ strolls into our rooms with his wisdom and guidance, and things change. Our prayers are answered; we are healed; our hearts are strangely warmed. Sometimes.
And yet, we also experience evil within & all around us. Our own sin which can shatter our peace and the trajectory of our lives. And the sins of the world—its greed, dishonesty and environmental destruction.
But in this broken world, we still experience the glory of creation; “coincidences” which accelerate once we start praying, and shalom which envelops us like sudden sunshine. The portals into this Kingdom include repentance, gratitude, meditative breathing, and absolute surrender.
The Kingdom of God is here already. We can experience its beauty, peace and joy today through the presence of the Holy Spirit. But yet, since, in the Apostle Paul’s words, we do not struggle only “against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the unseen powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil,” its fullness still lingers…
Our daughter Zoe was ordained into the Church of E Our daughter Zoe was ordained into the Church of England in June. I have been on a social media break… but … better late than never. Enjoy!
First picture has my sister, Shalini, who kindly flew in from the US. Our lovely cousins Anthony and Sarah flank Zoe in the next picture.
The Bishop of London, Sarah Mullaly, ordained Zoe. You can see her praying that Zoe will be filled with the Holy Spirit!!
And here’s a meditation I’ve recorded, which you might enjoy. The link is also in my profile
https://anitamathias.com/2024/11/07/all-those-who-exalt-themselves-will-be-humbled-the-humble-will-be-exalted/
I have taped a meditation on Jesus statement in Ma I have taped a meditation on Jesus statement in Matthew 23, “For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Do listen here. https://anitamathias.com/2024/11/07/all-those-who-exalt-themselves-will-be-humbled-the-humble-will-be-exalted/
Link also in bio.
And so, Jesus states a law of life. Those who broadcast their amazingness will be humbled, since God dislikes—scorns that, as much as people do.  For to trumpet our success, wealth, brilliance, giftedness or popularity is to get distracted from our life’s purpose into worthless activity. Those who love power, who are sure they know best, and who must be the best, will eventually be humbled by God and life. For their focus has shifted from loving God, doing good work, and being a blessing to their family, friends, and the world towards impressing others, being enviable, perhaps famous. These things are houses built on sand, which will crumble when hammered by the waves of old age, infirmity or adversity. 
God resists the proud, Scripture tells us—those who crave the admiration and power which is His alone. So how do we resist pride? We slow down, so that we realise (and repent) when sheer pride sparks our allergies to people, our enmities, our determination to have our own way, or our grandiose ego-driven goals, and ambitions. Once we stop chasing limelight, a great quietness steals over our lives. We no longer need the drug of continual achievement, or to share images of glittering travel, parties, prizes or friends. We just enjoy them quietly. My life is for itself & not for a spectacle, Emerson wrote. And, as Jesus advises, we quit sharp-elbowing ourselves to sit with the shiniest people, but are content to hang out with ordinary people; and then, as Jesus said, we will inevitably, eventually, be summoned higher to the sparkling conversation we craved. 
One day, every knee will bow before the gentle lamb who was slain, now seated on the throne. We will all be silent before him. Let us live gently then, our eyes on Christ, continually asking for his power, his Spirit, and his direction, moving, dancing, in the direction that we sense him move.
Link to new podcast in Bio https://anitamathias.co Link to new podcast in Bio https://anitamathias.com/2024/02/20/how-jesus-dealt-with-hostility-and-enemies/
3 days before his death, Jesus rampages through the commercialised temple, overturning the tables of moneychangers. Who gave you the authority to do these things? his outraged adversaries ask. And Jesus shows us how to answer hostile questions. Slow down. Breathe. Quick arrow prayers!
Your enemies have no power over your life that your Father has not permitted them. Ask your Father for wisdom, remembering: Questions do not need to be answered. Are these questioners worthy of the treasures of your heart? Or would that be feeding pearls to hungry pigs, who might instead devour you?
Questions can contain pitfalls, traps, nooses. Jesus directly answered just three of the 183 questions he was asked, refusing to answer some; answering others with a good question.
But how do we get the inner calm and wisdom to recognise
and sidestep entrapping questions? Long before the day of
testing, practice slow, easy breathing, and tune in to the frequency of the Father. There’s no record of Jesus running, rushing, getting stressed, or lacking peace. He never spoke on his own, he told us, without checking in with the Father. So, no foolish, ill-judged statements. Breathing in the wisdom of the Father beside and within him, he, unintimidated, traps the trappers.
Wisdom begins with training ourselves to slow down and ask
the Father for guidance. Then our calm minds, made perceptive, will help us recognise danger and trick questions, even those coated in flattery, and sidestep them or refuse to answer.
We practice tuning in to heavenly wisdom by practising–asking God questions, and then listening for his answers about the best way to do simple things…organise a home or write. Then, we build upwards, asking for wisdom in more complex things.
Listening for the voice of God before we speak, and asking for a filling of the Spirit, which Jesus calls streams of living water within us, will give us wisdom to know what to say, which, frequently, is nothing at all. It will quieten us with the silence of God, which sings through the world, through sun and stars, sky and flowers.
Especially for @ samheckt Some very imperfect pi Especially for @ samheckt 
Some very imperfect pictures of my labradoodle Merry, and golden retriever Pippi.
And since, I’m on social media, if you are the meditating type, here’s a scriptural meditation on not being afraid, while being prudent. https://anitamathias.com/2024/01/03/do-not-be-afraid-but-do-be-prudent/
A new podcast. Link in bio https://anitamathias.c A new podcast. Link in bio
https://anitamathias.com/2024/01/03/do-not-be-afraid-but-do-be-prudent/
Do Not Be Afraid, but Do Be Prudent
“Do not be afraid,” a dream-angel tells Joseph, to marry Mary, who’s pregnant, though a virgin, for in our magical, God-invaded world, the Spirit has placed God in her. Call the baby Jesus, or The Lord saves, for he will drag people free from the chokehold of their sins.
And Joseph is not afraid. And the angel was right, for a star rose, signalling a new King of the Jews. Astrologers followed it, threatening King Herod, whose chief priests recounted Micah’s 600-year-old prophecy: the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem, as Jesus had just been, while his parents from Nazareth registered for Augustus Caesar’s census of the entire Roman world. 
The Magi worshipped the baby, offering gold. And shepherds came, told by an angel of joy: that the Messiah, a saviour from all that oppresses, had just been born.
Then, suddenly, the dream-angel warned: Flee with the child to Egypt. For Herod plans to kill this baby, forever-King.
Do not be afraid, but still flee? Become a refugee? But lightning-bolt coincidences verified the angel’s first words: The magi with gold for the flight. Shepherds
telling of angels singing of coming inner peace. Joseph flees.
What’s the difference between fear and prudence? Fear is being frozen or panicked by imaginary what-ifs. It tenses our bodies; strains health, sleep and relationships; makes us stingy with ourselves & others; leads to overwork, & time wasted doing pointless things for fear of people’s opinions.
Prudence is wisdom-using our experience & spiritual discernment as we battle the demonic forces of this dark world, in Paul’s phrase.It’s fighting with divinely powerful weapons: truth, righteousness, faith, Scripture & prayer, while surrendering our thoughts to Christ. 
So let’s act prudently, wisely & bravely, silencing fear, while remaining alert to God’s guidance, delivered through inner peace or intuitions of danger and wrongness, our spiritual senses tuned to the Spirit’s “No,” his “Slow,” his “Go,” as cautious as a serpent, protected, while being as gentle as a lamb among wolves.
Link to post with podcast link in Bio or https://a Link to post with podcast link in Bio or https://anitamathias.com/2023/09/22/dont-walk-away-from-jesus-but-if-you-do-he-still-looks-at-you-and-loves-you/
Jesus came from a Kingdom of voluntary gentleness, in which
Christ, the Lion of Judah, stands at the centre of the throne in the guise of a lamb, looking as if it had been slain. No wonder his disciples struggled with his counter-cultural values. Oh, and we too!
The mother of the Apostles James and John, asks Jesus for a favour—that once He became King, her sons got the most important, prestigious seats at court, on his right and left. And the other ten, who would have liked the fame, glory, power,limelight and honour themselves are indignant and threatened.
Oh-oh, Jesus says. Who gets five talents, who gets one,
who gets great wealth and success, who doesn’t–that the
Father controls. Don’t waste your one precious and fleeting
life seeking to lord it over others or boss them around.
But, in his wry kindness, he offers the ambitious twelve
and us something better than the second or third place.
He tells us how to actually be the most important person to
others at work, in our friend group, social circle, or church:Use your talents, gifts, and energy to bless others.
And we instinctively know Jesus is right. The greatest people in our lives are the kind people who invested in us, guided us and whose wise, radiant words are engraved on our hearts.
Wanting to sit with the cleverest, most successful, most famous people is the path of restlessness and discontent. The competition is vast. But seek to see people, to listen intently, to be kind, to empathise, and doors fling wide open for you, you rare thing!
The greatest person is the one who serves, Jesus says. Serves by using the one, two, or five talents God has given us to bless others, by finding a place where our deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet. By writing which is a blessing, hospitality, walking with a sad friend, tidying a house.
And that is the only greatness worth having. That you yourself,your life and your work are a blessing to others. That the love and wisdom God pours into you lives in people’s hearts and minds, a blessing
https://anitamathias.com/.../dont-walk-away-from-j https://anitamathias.com/.../dont-walk-away-from-jesus.../
Sharing this podcast I recorded last week. LINK IN BIO
So Jesus makes a beautiful offer to the earnest, moral young man who came to him, seeking a spiritual life. Remarkably, the young man claims that he has kept all the commandments from his youth, including the command to love one’s neighbour as oneself, a statement Jesus does not challenge.
The challenge Jesus does offers him, however, the man cannot accept—to sell his vast possessions, give the money to the poor, and follow Jesus encumbered.
He leaves, grieving, and Jesus looks at him, loves him, and famously observes that it’s easier for a camel to squeeze through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to live in the world of wonders which is living under Christ’s kingship, guidance and protection. 
He reassures his dismayed disciples, however, that with God even the treasure-burdened can squeeze into God’s kingdom, “for with God, all things are possible.”
Following him would quite literally mean walking into a world of daily wonders, and immensely rich conversation, walking through Israel, Lebanon, Syria, and Jordan, quite impossible to do with suitcases and backpacks laden with treasure. 
For what would we reject God’s specific, internally heard whisper or directive, a micro-call? That is the idol which currently grips and possesses us. 
Not all of us have great riches, nor is money everyone’s greatest temptation—it can be success, fame, universal esteem, you name it…
But, since with God all things are possible, even those who waver in their pursuit of God can still experience him in fits and snatches, find our spirits singing on a walk or during worship in church, or find our hearts strangely warmed by Scripture, and, sometimes, even “see” Christ stand before us. 
For Christ looks at us, Christ loves us, and says, “With God, all things are possible,” even we, the flawed, entering his beautiful Kingdom.
https://anitamathias.com/2023/09/07/how-to-find-th https://anitamathias.com/2023/09/07/how-to-find-the-freedom-of-forgiveness/
How to Find the Freedom of Forgiveness
Letting go on anger and forgiving is both an emotional transaction & a decision of the will. We discover we cannot command our emotions to forgive and relinquish anger. So how do we find the space and clarity of forgiveness in our mind, spirit & emotions?
When tormenting memories surface, our cortisol, adrenaline, blood pressure, and heart rate all rise. It’s good to take a literally quick walk with Jesus, to calm this neurological and physiological storm. And then honestly name these emotions… for feelings buried alive never die.
Then, in a process called “the healing of memories,” mentally visualise the painful scene, seeing Christ himself there, his eyes brimming with compassion. Ask Christ to heal the sting, to draw the poison from these memories of experiences. We are caterpillars in a ring of fire, as Martin Luther wrote--unable to rescue ourselves. We need help from above.
Accept what happened. What happened, happened. Then, as the Apostle Paul advises, give thanks in everything, though not for everything. Give thanks because God can bring good out of the swindle and the injustice. Ask him to bring magic and beauty from the ashes.
If, like the persistent widow Jesus spoke of, you want to pray for justice--that the swindler and the abusers’ characters are revealed, so many are protected, then do so--but first, purify your own life.
And now, just forgive. Say aloud, I forgive you for … You are setting a captive free. Yourself. Come alive. Be free. 
And when memories of deep injuries arise, say: “No. No. Not going there.” Stop repeating the devastating story to yourself or anyone else. Don’t waste your time & emotional energy, nor let yourself be overwhelmed by anger at someone else’s evil actions. Don’t let the past poison today. Refuse to allow reinjury. Deliberately think instead of things noble, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy.
So keep trying, in obedience, to forgive, to let go of your anger until you suddenly realise that you have forgiven, and can remember past events without agitation. God be with us!
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