The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one’s own country as a foreign land.
- G.K. Chesterton
That is, to see what we see with wide eyes of wonder and appreciation, even (and especially) our own home city/land. Travel is always a thoughtful process to me, and I am excited for this next adventure! The first stop is the map I am studying in this old book.
I am trying not to get too used to this - travelling to Europe twice in one year. I am tremendously excited, though. It wasn't very long ago (March) that I was in England, Scotland, and Iceland. On this trip, I'll be back in England, and then boarding a cruise ship for Norway and the fjords.
I've been studying maps, searching the web for places of interest (you know, bookshops, coffee shops, scenic spots, historical spots), and trying to pack as little as possible. Over the years, I've learned a few things about packing light - as I realized I tend to use so little of what I classify as "I might need, or might decide to wear this".
Pack lighter than you think you need to. This is my motto. I remember one particular trip on my own to London and Oxford. I originally packed my luggage tightly, and in Oxford I went crazy in the bookshops, and I couldn't fit everything in my luggage. I used a tote bag for the overflow, and the tote was so very heavy and bursting (hello books!) and I had to walk a mile to the train station in Oxford with said luggage and tote, plus another half mile or so in London once I got to Victoria station. It was grueling, to say the least, however, I will suffer for books. My point is that if I had planned better and packed much lighter (as I have learned to do now), I would have been smart to leave room in my luggage for books and other purchases.
I have a different luggage now. It's a bit bigger, and I have learned a lot about packing outfits that can mix and match (so lots of neutral colours). If I am able to do laundry, I bring even less. If I cannot do laundry, I give it more thought to be sure I will wear every piece a few times.
Honestly, my toughest decision now is usually about what book(s) I bring to read. It's a very long flight, and if I don't have a good book to read (since I cannot seem to ever sleep) it is a torturous 8-9 hours.
As I pack, I think about how thankful I am for the opportunity to travel. It's not everyday that one gets to experience other cultures and breathe in the beauty of other countries. I feel that it is a privilege to visit other places in the world, to appreciate the landscapes, the people, the cities, the food, and the experiences of culture. My goal as a traveler is to see God in all these things, in many ways and many places. For as awe rises in me, it is an awe that points toward God.
It was a compact city, and on a night such as this one it climbed towards the stars like one of those turreted cities seen in the margins of medieval manuscripts.
- Elizabeth Goudge
I am an admirer of Elizabeth Goudge. I may have only read a small handful of her novels, but the more I read, the more I am reminded of what good storytelling is like. These are gentle stories not created to invoke shock and drama, but to tell stories of normal people who have histories and tragedies that shape them, and then wise lessons learned along the way. Each character has a different personality with challenges they must face with various relationships. Through many errors of the characters, the story weaves into a lovely tapestry of changed hearts, healed relationships, joy discovered, or goodness finally coming to those who waited.
Her stories remind me that to be good is to do the tougher thing, all the time. And when we don't do the tougher thing out of love, take a step back and correct it. It's okay that we aren't perfect. It is a beautiful thing when we are all imperfect together, appreciating one another, and gently encouraging one another where we need it.
Goudge lived from 1900 - 1984, and wrote this particular book in 1960. It takes place in the 18th century, in a tiny cathedral town. She melds history into her stories, along with many relational studies through the characters. Her writing gives me hope that good fiction doesn't have to be filled with foul language, drama just to do drama, action just to keep you turning pages, and shocking passages. That is a main reason why I tend to steer away from modern fiction. If you feel similarly, try reading something of hers. You'll be charmed. And you might learn something about loving people along the way.
The other night (sometime after midnight), I was rather rudely jolted awake by loud crashing thunder directly over my home. I am someone who (apparently) sleeps on the lighter side, so noises in the yard or noises from nature tend to wake me up. The bright lightning and subsequent thunder were so loud, I don't know how anyone would be able to sleep through it. Anyway, in between the loud rumbles the rain that fell was a steady, soothing rain that countered the thunder by quickly lulling me back to sleep until the next loud crash of thunder jolted me awake again.
When the thunder finally moved to a distance and it was no longer directly overhead, I just focused on the gentle sounds of the rain falling on my roof, windows, and the tree limbs outside. I love the sound of rain drops splashing down. I can easily find myself in joy amidst the soothing sounds of the rain, and I felt it a blessing to listen to it as I fell back to sleep.
Sometimes our lives can be simultaneously transitioned into a trial and a blessing. The storm is a simple example. It's not the thunder that is dangerous, but that it usually what startles us. The lightning is vibrant and full of danger. We seek shelter if outdoors, and we seek comfort if we are woken up in the stillness of the night. But the rain is blessing. Soaking our lands with live-giving water and cooling our atmosphere.
Before I fell back to sleep that night I truly felt joy that I was in a safe place, sheltered from the danger of the storm, and able to listen to a lullaby of nature - the pitter patter of the rain drops. It occurred to me, very sleepily, that sometimes the most subtle joys are amidst a bit of a storm. We just have to be patient as we pass through it.
Sometimes our world gets caught up in being like others - mimicking others to fit in or be accepted. In every aspect, we need to be fully ourselves, and know that how we were created is a beautiful thing. Only then do true talents come out.
I just finished reading the biography of J.R.R. Tolkien, and one thing I admire about him is that he embraced his unique talent and gift (of writing detailed legends as if they were history) and gave us the words we read today in The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, and countless other tales and essays. His influence in the writing world is enormous, but he had no idea that his talent would even be noticed. He just wrote what he knew he loved to write.
Tolkien lived a quiet, uneventful life in England, many of those years residing in Oxford. If someone picked up this biography expecting an exciting tale, they would be disappointed. Tolkien was like a hobbit (he even said that), enjoying all things comfortable, quiet, spending time out in his garden, smoking a pipe, and eating good food. But within these pages you get the sense of what drove Tolkien in his writing and the things that he cared about. As someone who enjoys dabbling in writing, it is comforting to know that he struggled with finding the time to sit and write. He stayed up late into the night to write, because he had no other time most days. He also had difficulty in selecting the right words to use. He wrote and re-wrote passages many times, and sometimes re-vamped a whole book because he wasn't satisfied. He was a perfectionist, and cared deeply about the history he was writing, but that oftentimes meant he missed deadlines and probably felt like a failure. He talked so fast sometimes, many people noted they had a hard time keeping up intellectually, as he moved so quickly.
He is remembered most for the aforementioned books, but he never anticipated such fame. By being himself, he graced the world with stories that none of us could ever have imagined or created. His unique gift is an inspiration to many generations. His books, far from being slipshod creations, are meticulous works of art. While many times he doubted himself (and his ability to finish a piece), he found encouragement in his friend C.S. Lewis, who nudged him along to finish The Lord of the Rings. Sometimes we need that friendly push to keep doing what we do well, and friends can do that for us.
I am so thankful for the gifts that Tolkien had and the gifts he gave us in his writings. the more I read of his, the more I admire his genius. A waistcoat wearing, pipe-smoking, Oxford don who loved words so deeply from a very early age, instilled in him by his mother.
This morning the light was pretty, and humid. I correct myself that it's not the light that is humid, but the air. Hence why my windows are full of condensation. The air on either side of the glass are vastly different, and colliding. But it is now evening and I have a few minutes before someone is coming over for tea.
I pick up a small, old book of poetry on my console table, and flip it open randomly to a page, where by eyes falls directly on these lines by Percy Bysshe Shelley. I gently pace back and forth on my creaking wood floors as I read:
In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
Thou dost float and run;
Like an unbodied joy whose race
is just begun.
I take a deep breathe and relish in such beautiful words. They capture me and I note how appropriate these lines are as I admire the setting sun's light that is currently coming into my home, casting that lovely muted glow into certain nooks. I love when lines of poetry so succinctly capture a feeling or a scene of that present moment.
Shelley (1792 -1822) is writing with a loving, melancholy tone, to a skylark, and I enjoy his detailed, beautiful lines that I can read God's creativity in. I get a sense of his writing to the skylark as a way of sharing something of himself; the inability to express something that the world will listen to. He is listening to the loveliness of the skylark and wishes the world would also listen. He longs for what is not, and recognizes that "our sweetest songs are those that tell of sadness thought".
While Shelley was an atheist, I find myself enjoying his melancholy, flowing, poetical lines more and more. He was a student at Oxford University (at University College) and was good friends with John Keats and Lord Byron. In his poems, where he may lean toward despair and see no light, I spy the presence of God in many of his lines (almost hidden), and seek to find such light he may portray unbeknownst to him.
For the whole law is fulfilled in one statement: Love your neighbor as yourself.
- Galatians 5.14
It always comes back to this simple thing. Not an easy thing, mind you, but simple. No matter how complex a situation gets, or how convoluted. I've read so many good books that get twisted and turned through complexities of drama and events. Epic stories are told and re-told and we go back to them countless times. They all point to truth - that love is a good that should always be displayed. It is stronger than any force, any leader, and any country. It is love that created the cosmos.
I suspect we all need constant reminders that we choose our actions and where our mind will be at every moment. We can choose to act selfishly with what we want all day and think of how we can better ourselves to beat others, or we can pray for others, encourage others, say kind things to others, and simply love others in various ways if we look outwardly. If we can reverse our inward directed looking, to an outward looking toward the good of others, our world would be a different place.
This chapter in Galatians is also where it talks about the fruits of the spirit, and the flesh vs spirit desires. This all goes hand-in-hand, for if our lives are producing good fruit (meaning- if we are focused on the good things of the spirit), we will be loving others well through everything we do. As we know, and have evidence of everyday all around us, the desires of the flesh are no good, and they produce reactions that consist of dark things like hate, violence, bitterness, jealousy, selfishness, etc.
The fruits of the spirit have no law against them, and they can be displayed at any time. We can show love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self-control any time, any where. We don't ever have to worry about it being a bad time. If what we intend is for good, we will be better equipped to keep those fleshy desires at a distance. We will be able to recognize when it's stirring and then focus on the spirit.
Jump into the truth that is much bigger than any of us, and see where it takes us.
My weekends tend to vacillate between the busy and the slow. The slow times are intentional, and sometimes they have to squeeze in wherever they can. An art of being present and embracing moments.
Sometimes I wonder why we, in our modern culture, have so many things on our plates to fill our time with. It seems that time-saving machines don't add time to our calendar. We still have to load laundry, fold laundry, wash dishes, vacuum, get our cars repaired, go grocery shopping, etc. While we aren't going down to the lake to wash clothes, where did that saved time go? It gets eaten up somewhere. Perhaps with our mobile phones. I am certainly one who enjoys Instagram, but I intentionally do not use other social media to limit the time I am spending online. Are there other areas that could be limited?
Of course, computers have propelled our culture into an instant society, and our working lives are vastly different from sixteen years ago when I had my first part-time business job in high school. It is amazing the speed at which we can do things now, and it will only get faster.
While that is fascinating, I am interested in slowing down and simplifying. I am interested in spending time with friends and sitting around a table talking about life, lessons we have learned, wisdom gained, and interests we are passionate about. I want to step outside and pay attention to nature that is full of marvels. I want to linger over cups of tea and good conversation. I seek to be surrounded by beautiful pieces of decor and furniture that are well made, lovingly designed, and simple. I aim to curate my space with things that inspire me and that I am passionate about.
I am interested in the thought-provoking. Lectures and talks online are my go-to. I stopped watching television many years ago, and it was the best decision. I select what I want to watch, if I ever do, and it's usually PBS or a really good show that might come out. I read instead. I don't ever regret spending a lot of time reading.
I don't mind being busy, but I want it to be worthwhile busy-ness. Do you feel the same way? I want that time to be with others: helping, loving, and caring. I want that to be time where my talents are being used for good, and sharing life with others in an encouraging way. Perhaps this is just a dream, and one long stream of consciousness flowing out of my head, but I'd like to think this can be a real thing all the time.
I occupy this space for a moment.
The dark gloom settles on the horizon
and I look out to watch the stillness
move slowly under the tick of time.
No breeze yet, but a storm is near.
The wind chime begins to shuffle
and I feel the darkness grow
to a more full sense of night.
It is the lingering of day that brings light.
Often we claim the coming of night
presses onward the daytime to go
round the world until next morn.
