Thursday, June 21, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Pause for Thought
The Richard Allinson Show
BBC Radio 2
Sunday, June 17th, 2012
It’s a religious platitude that we bring nothing into this world and carry nothing with us out of it at the end. As anyone knows, however, who has moved house we seem to do our level best to compensate for this state of affairs by accumulating an incredible weight of stuff during the middle bits between our arrival and our departure.
The Richard Allinson Show
BBC Radio 2
Sunday, June 17th, 2012
It’s a religious platitude that we bring nothing into this world and carry nothing with us out of it at the end. As anyone knows, however, who has moved house we seem to do our level best to compensate for this state of affairs by accumulating an incredible weight of stuff during the middle bits between our arrival and our departure.
Where
does it come from?
There
are presents given to us by people who obviously don’t know us very well: Books we have no interest in or executive
toys which we are too busy to play with.
Then
there are the outdated things. Our
interests were different, once upon a time, and we collect things associated
with a particular hobby and pursuit. And
then we moved on and lost interest but all the trinkets, the tools are still there
in a box marked “Miscellaneous – Very”.
Outdated too are the ill fitting
clothes which we once looked good in before the outward development of the
belly out front and the backside out back.
We’d be embarrassed to try and
shoehorn our way into these old clothes.
In
both cases these things no longer match our shape or our interests. They
are no longer part of who we have become.
Moving
house – like many forms of spiritual discipline – is a stripping back of the
illusion of who we – or other people – thought we were. We simply get rid of what is not us. In packing up a box to take down to the
charity shop we get closer to accepting and even rejoicing in the truth of who
we have genuinely become.
Pause for Thought
The Anneke Rice Show
BBC Radio 2
Saturday June 16th, 2012
At
our final assembly at one of the local primary schools I addressed the subject
of “moving on”. I don’t always have a
lot in common with small children but this time and at this assembly I felt I
had a foot to stand on. You see, my
family and I are moving, ourselves, in the next few weeks to central France
where I’ll be taking a new church and we’ll be starting a new life.
The
school children, for their part, will be moving up a grade or, in the case of
the Primary Sevens, will be heading off to High School in a neighbouring town. The smaller children will all see themselves
reorganized into new classes.
Friendships will be reorganized too.
Children will come back from their summer holidays and will start the
year by breaking old alliances and making new ones.
As
for the Primary Sevens – they will go from being the oldest, the tallest and
the most admired of the students to being the smallest and the least
experienced. As I outlined some of the
changes which would take place for them in the coming year a number of faces
were truly solemn. A few can hardly wait
for the changes to happen. Many,
however, find themselves caught between the promise of an enticing future and
the loss which they will incur by seeing the old way of life – known and
comfortable – ending or at least at risk.
I
might have told them that at 54 years of age it doesn’t get any easier to move. The same questions hold sway:
Will
I have friends?
Will
the new people like me?
Will
the new work prove to be difficult?
And
the same resources will need to be called upon – an openness of spirit, a
willingness to learn from mistakes and a degree of trust in the people around
us.
----
Audio available HERE. PFT begins at 0:19.20 on the audio bar
