This whole Scottish independence movement is hard to follow from here. I've always thought that Scotland and Wales and even Northern Ireland, had distinct identities and did not think of themselves as 'British'.
This movement seems to emerge from two distinct and very different situations.
1) The Iron Lady and beyond: Some Scots wanted a third choice on the ballot along with 'Yes' and 'No'--'Devolution'. Until Margaret Thatcher, Scotland had a great deal of control of their education system, their health-care system, their banking system...they even had the right to add a tax to the British income tax of 3 pence to a pound that would stay in Scotland for Scottish use. They never did it, but they had the option. Actually, Scotland made out like bandits in the 'marriage of convenience with England, Wales and Ireland (now just Northern Ireland). The Scottish economy, semi-autonomous from the rest of the UK, flowered in the alliance in trade and manufacturing and banking. But beginning with Thatcher, lessening with Blair and increasing again under David Cameron, Westminster took back some of the autonomy...quite a bit of it. "Devolution" as an option would give Great Britain the opportunity to 'devolve' powers back to a Scotland still in the union. In fact, Cameron and others have suggested that would happen if there was a 'No' vote. However, the thing politicians do worst is make promises they keep.
2) The discovery of oil in the North Sea 30 years ago: all that oil (mostly undeveloped) is now in the ocean of Great Britain. If the vote is 'Yes' today, the ocean belongs to Scotland. Don't need to explain that much more. Follow the money....
The vote was on paper ballots and the total won't be known until Friday morning sometimes although the population of Scotland is only a tad larger than the population of Connecticut.
Bern said she hopes the vote is 'Yes'...just to see what happens!
Who knows what will happen--but the vote will be extremely close although about a month ago "No" had a big lead. Then England started sending PM's and others to croon about how lovely it is to be 'British' and the Scots were appalled.
Whatever happens, this close vote will change the conversation in Scotland from "Why should we be independent?" to "Why shouldn't we be independent?"
That shift in the conversation is a crack in the dike of unity. That much I know from the 2% or so of my DNA that is Scottish.
Scottish DNA is DNA on steroids and bagpipes and haggis....
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
One thing I notice
When I come back from leading a workshop I am calmer and more laid back that I was before I went.
Now, truth be known, I am calm and laid back to a degree normally not seen in nature.
So, coming back more so, deepens the calmness and laid backness.
Maybe, if I lead enough Making a Difference Workshops, I'll just show up as 'present', with not much attached.
That would be good, I think....
Now, truth be known, I am calm and laid back to a degree normally not seen in nature.
So, coming back more so, deepens the calmness and laid backness.
Maybe, if I lead enough Making a Difference Workshops, I'll just show up as 'present', with not much attached.
That would be good, I think....
Monday, September 15, 2014
Coming home
When Jerome, one of the Chinese participants in the workshop in Chicago, was leaving, he gave me half-a-pack of Chinese cigarettes. Though some people would think that was akin to giving a razor blade to a person in a warm bath, I was deeply touched.
Chinese cigarettes, by the way, taste the way I had imagined they would. But I smoked them anyway so I would honor the gift.
We had the widest cultural group I've ever seen in a workshop--4 Chinese, 4 Vietnamese, 2 Africans (Togo and Somalia), an American raised Korean who spoke Chinese as well as English and Korean and two Hispanics. Amazing. We had to keep checking if everyone understood 'Americanism'--like I said, "frozen in amber" and Ann explained resin and insects to the group!
Ann and I had dinner with Nancy and Jens, both of whom are involved in the Mastery Foundation. They live on the 28th and top floor of a high-rise in North Chicago. Their South facing wall is all glass and looks over downtown and the lake. To the west, floor the ceiling windows view the sunset. I have difficulty (as I've said before, I'm sure) with heights. I didn't get too near the windows, but the views were beyond belief. Four friends of theirs, all Bosnians, came as well and were delightful.
Ann took a cab to O'Hara and I took one to Midway. My cab driver was from Nairobi, and we listened to the end of the Bears game on his radio, turned up loud, us cheering all the way. Chicago Bears fans from Nairobi and West Virginia--ponder that.
I took the shuttle to the airport this morning and flew to Atlanta--Chicago to Hartford through Atlanta, imagine that.
My connection was in a different concourse and I had to take a train and didn't have time for a meal so I bought a Boar's Head wrap to eat on the plane. Atlanta still has smoking areas--which, to me, seems very civilized. I had a Chinese cigarette in a pub that had glass doors that kept the smoke inside. You could have had a smoke in there without lightening up. It was about 30 feet by 20 feet and sealed in and full of smoke and the friendly and marginalized folks who are smokers. When smokers are in the presence of only other smokers there is an almost tribal feeling to the gathering.
The flight to Bradley Airport was supposed to take an hour and 59 minutes. We were 27 minutes early so I got through Hartford traffic before 5 and got home much earlier than I had imagined.
The Puli almost had a stroke from the exuberance of this greeting and Bern was there, wondrous as always, and the cat came out and put his paws up on my leg for a scratch and the parakeet was singing up a storm.
How much I love home!
The day may come when I won't travel at all, as much as I enjoy it.
Coming home is always just the absolute, positively, best thing ever.....
Chinese cigarettes, by the way, taste the way I had imagined they would. But I smoked them anyway so I would honor the gift.
We had the widest cultural group I've ever seen in a workshop--4 Chinese, 4 Vietnamese, 2 Africans (Togo and Somalia), an American raised Korean who spoke Chinese as well as English and Korean and two Hispanics. Amazing. We had to keep checking if everyone understood 'Americanism'--like I said, "frozen in amber" and Ann explained resin and insects to the group!
Ann and I had dinner with Nancy and Jens, both of whom are involved in the Mastery Foundation. They live on the 28th and top floor of a high-rise in North Chicago. Their South facing wall is all glass and looks over downtown and the lake. To the west, floor the ceiling windows view the sunset. I have difficulty (as I've said before, I'm sure) with heights. I didn't get too near the windows, but the views were beyond belief. Four friends of theirs, all Bosnians, came as well and were delightful.
Ann took a cab to O'Hara and I took one to Midway. My cab driver was from Nairobi, and we listened to the end of the Bears game on his radio, turned up loud, us cheering all the way. Chicago Bears fans from Nairobi and West Virginia--ponder that.
I took the shuttle to the airport this morning and flew to Atlanta--Chicago to Hartford through Atlanta, imagine that.
My connection was in a different concourse and I had to take a train and didn't have time for a meal so I bought a Boar's Head wrap to eat on the plane. Atlanta still has smoking areas--which, to me, seems very civilized. I had a Chinese cigarette in a pub that had glass doors that kept the smoke inside. You could have had a smoke in there without lightening up. It was about 30 feet by 20 feet and sealed in and full of smoke and the friendly and marginalized folks who are smokers. When smokers are in the presence of only other smokers there is an almost tribal feeling to the gathering.
The flight to Bradley Airport was supposed to take an hour and 59 minutes. We were 27 minutes early so I got through Hartford traffic before 5 and got home much earlier than I had imagined.
The Puli almost had a stroke from the exuberance of this greeting and Bern was there, wondrous as always, and the cat came out and put his paws up on my leg for a scratch and the parakeet was singing up a storm.
How much I love home!
The day may come when I won't travel at all, as much as I enjoy it.
Coming home is always just the absolute, positively, best thing ever.....
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Chicago 2
It's the end of the second day of the workshop--right on schedule where we should be in the material. Tomorrow we finally stop going backwards and move toward the future. The first two days are all about clearing away the stuff in the background in order to create a clearing from which to create a future that wouldn't happen anyway. Tomorrow is always exciting for the participants, and for us....
Where we're staying doesn't have a cafeteria so we take all meals out. But we're right between the University of Chicago and the Catholic Theological Union so there are any number of good places to eat. Last night we had dinner in a glorified diner: Ann Overton and I had biscuits and sausage gravy and fried green tomatoes...I also had grits. Imagine such a wondrous southern meal in the upper reaches of the mid-west! And it was as good as I've had anywhere. What a find--a place for gravy and biscuits that is open 24 hours.
Tonight, John Ibel treated us to a really fine Italian Restaurant. I had some of the best salmon I've ever eaten with shrimp and scallops still in the shell with sun-dried tomatoes and olives and mushrooms and spinach mashed potatoes. There was enough left that I brought it home for lunch tomorrow. The last two days for lunch I've had soft shell crab salad and shrimp spring rolls for a Thia place a couple of blocks away. Today I also had some muscles on rice noodles with a warm green curry sauce. Who knew Chicago was a seafood gem?
(Enough about food already--leading the Making a Difference Workshop works up an appetite....)
Where we're staying doesn't have a cafeteria so we take all meals out. But we're right between the University of Chicago and the Catholic Theological Union so there are any number of good places to eat. Last night we had dinner in a glorified diner: Ann Overton and I had biscuits and sausage gravy and fried green tomatoes...I also had grits. Imagine such a wondrous southern meal in the upper reaches of the mid-west! And it was as good as I've had anywhere. What a find--a place for gravy and biscuits that is open 24 hours.
Tonight, John Ibel treated us to a really fine Italian Restaurant. I had some of the best salmon I've ever eaten with shrimp and scallops still in the shell with sun-dried tomatoes and olives and mushrooms and spinach mashed potatoes. There was enough left that I brought it home for lunch tomorrow. The last two days for lunch I've had soft shell crab salad and shrimp spring rolls for a Thia place a couple of blocks away. Today I also had some muscles on rice noodles with a warm green curry sauce. Who knew Chicago was a seafood gem?
(Enough about food already--leading the Making a Difference Workshop works up an appetite....)
Chicago
Flying on 9/11 was a bit eerie. Waiting for my flight at Bradley, the entire airport was asked to observe a minute of silence at the time the first plane hit the World Trade Center. I didn't realize how chaotic, loud and full of frenetic movement the airport around me had been until everyone stopped moving and talking for a minute--a long minute.
The trip out was interrupted by a layover in Detroit. In fact, I spent more time in Detroit's airport than in the air the whole day! Two and a half hours in Detroit, two hours and 25 minutes flying. But, luckily, it's a nice airport.
I few to Midway where John Ible, who put together the workshop, picked me up. We're at the Catholic Theological Union in Hyde Park, just three blocks from Lake Michigan. I'm in a large room with bath on the 9th floor--a little high for me given my issues with heights, but as long as I stay a couple of feet from the windows, I'm fine.
The workshop has 29 participants--just about the perfect size. Most are RC religious of some ilk--not unusual since the workshops tend to reflect the producers and John did it all himself and he's a Maryknoll priest.
I couldn't get on line Thursday and much of Friday until I looked at the small envelope my room key and card to get into the building came in--there was the name and password I was to use printed clearly!
Will write more later.
The trip out was interrupted by a layover in Detroit. In fact, I spent more time in Detroit's airport than in the air the whole day! Two and a half hours in Detroit, two hours and 25 minutes flying. But, luckily, it's a nice airport.
I few to Midway where John Ible, who put together the workshop, picked me up. We're at the Catholic Theological Union in Hyde Park, just three blocks from Lake Michigan. I'm in a large room with bath on the 9th floor--a little high for me given my issues with heights, but as long as I stay a couple of feet from the windows, I'm fine.
The workshop has 29 participants--just about the perfect size. Most are RC religious of some ilk--not unusual since the workshops tend to reflect the producers and John did it all himself and he's a Maryknoll priest.
I couldn't get on line Thursday and much of Friday until I looked at the small envelope my room key and card to get into the building came in--there was the name and password I was to use printed clearly!
Will write more later.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
going again
I'm flying out of Bradley Airport (my own personal airport!) tomorrow at 11:10 am to got to Chicago to help lead a Making A Difference Workshop (those of us involved call it MAD).
I wish I could figure out how many workshops I've helped lead over the last (what is it?) 25 years or so. But I can't. A lot, I know.
It is one of the things that convinces me that who I 'be' is who I am meant to 'be'. I love doing it. It never gets old. And 'the workshop works', as we leaders remind ourselves over and again--in spite of our limitations.
It is a workshop about ontology--the study of 'being'...as opposed to 'doing' or 'having'. It is for people in ministry--it doesn't matter which kind (ordained, lay, tangential) so long as the participant thinks of what they do as 'ministry'. I think everyone in this Chicago workshop (25 last I heard) is a Christian. There is a richness that is added when we have folks of other faiths involved--but, never mind, all will be well.
Most of the participants will be Roman Catholic, since it was put together by a Maryknoll priest. The Mastery Foundation 'delivers' the workshop, but people on the ground have to put it together. So, the folks who put it together usually determine who's in it.
All three of the leaders are Episcopalians, oddly enough. That's seldom true. Ann, the Executive Director of the Foundation, is an Episcopal lay person. I'm an Episcopal priest and Shane, the newest leader, is both an Episcopal priest and a member of a monastic order. Luckily, Episcopalians understand Roman Catholics better than most of them understand themselves. There was some concern that Shane--woman, a priest and a monastic--might confuse some of the RC's. I personally think the women RC's will be fascinated with her and the men will 'get her' because she's a monastic.
It should be great fun. What is the most fun is to see the 'transformation' occur for the participants. MAD uses centering prayer and 'transformational technology' in equal doses. It simply runs together at some point.
Watching people find 'transformation' in their lives in ministry is about as good as it gets because you know that, because they're in 'ministry', their transformation is going to touch hundreds of people and rub off in many ways.
How great is that?
I wish I could figure out how many workshops I've helped lead over the last (what is it?) 25 years or so. But I can't. A lot, I know.
It is one of the things that convinces me that who I 'be' is who I am meant to 'be'. I love doing it. It never gets old. And 'the workshop works', as we leaders remind ourselves over and again--in spite of our limitations.
It is a workshop about ontology--the study of 'being'...as opposed to 'doing' or 'having'. It is for people in ministry--it doesn't matter which kind (ordained, lay, tangential) so long as the participant thinks of what they do as 'ministry'. I think everyone in this Chicago workshop (25 last I heard) is a Christian. There is a richness that is added when we have folks of other faiths involved--but, never mind, all will be well.
Most of the participants will be Roman Catholic, since it was put together by a Maryknoll priest. The Mastery Foundation 'delivers' the workshop, but people on the ground have to put it together. So, the folks who put it together usually determine who's in it.
All three of the leaders are Episcopalians, oddly enough. That's seldom true. Ann, the Executive Director of the Foundation, is an Episcopal lay person. I'm an Episcopal priest and Shane, the newest leader, is both an Episcopal priest and a member of a monastic order. Luckily, Episcopalians understand Roman Catholics better than most of them understand themselves. There was some concern that Shane--woman, a priest and a monastic--might confuse some of the RC's. I personally think the women RC's will be fascinated with her and the men will 'get her' because she's a monastic.
It should be great fun. What is the most fun is to see the 'transformation' occur for the participants. MAD uses centering prayer and 'transformational technology' in equal doses. It simply runs together at some point.
Watching people find 'transformation' in their lives in ministry is about as good as it gets because you know that, because they're in 'ministry', their transformation is going to touch hundreds of people and rub off in many ways.
How great is that?
Sunday, September 7, 2014
The adventurous trip home...
The Hampton Inn in Stofford/Aquita, Virginia--some 30 miles north of Richmond--is the midway point between Connecticut and Oak Island. 361 miles from Oak Island and 363 miles from Connecticut. Can't get more 'half-way' than that.
So that's where we stop going and coming, to break up what would be a 12 hour journey straight through.
Since we left the beach early, we got to the motel around 4, though, since we are all over 60, we stop to pee quite often....
After an early dinner, the plan was to leave around 6 a.m. so there would be plenty of time for me to pick up Bela at the Kennel between four and five. And so we did and somewhere in Maryland, John's GPS was predicting we'd get to New Haven, where our car was, around one p.m. All was well and all was well and all manner of things were well.
We stopped in Maryland to get coffee and pee and then again around mile 80 of the New Jersey Turnpike to pee and get a light snack, it still being well before noon. Five miles later, adventure began!
(I could have called this post, "the trip home from hell"--which, if you look at it cynically, it certainly could have been. But cynicism is a dead end that is a hell all itself. I prefer to find 'adventure' rather than tragedy in the vicissitudes of life. You can't avoid them, after all, so why make a big fat 'drama' out of them when it's just as easily seen as something out of an action/adventure movie?)
At mile post 85.5 of the NJ Turnpike, the serpentine belt of John's Land Rover broke and failed. I remember the exact place because we were suddenly on a shoulder of the Turnpike that barely contained the Land Rover and from the front seat passenger seat I was staring at the mile marker. John called AAA and was told they couldn't service breakdowns on the Turnpike but transferred him to the Turnpike Authority that dispatched a truck that arrived within 20 minutes. The driver was delightful and packed Bern, Sherry, John and me into his cab for the two exit ride to what I believe was Perth Amboy, NJ, though I have no comprehension of NJ geography. He set John's car down in a shopping center where AAA could come and get it.
The second tow truck arrived within half-an-hour and was going to tow John's car to his mechanic in New Haven. John has super-duper AAA service and the 105 mile tow as going to cost him only $12! Someone had to ride with the driver and John suggested I go since I would get to New Haven and my car in time to go get the dog.
Andrew, another friend in New Haven, agreed to drive to Perth Amboy and pick up the other three folks from the deserted island of a Walmart shopping center. (Imagine that--Andrew agreed, without hesitation, to drive 2 hours + to pick up the stranded adventurers! That is a friend indeed, perhaps a saint for the lost castaways....)
So, Jim the tow truck driver (actually it was a flatbed truck, not a truck with and hook) and I sat off on the next stage of the adventure. We doubtless passed Andrew going the other way but never knew it ('ships in the night/adventure' and all that).
Jim and I enjoyed the ride and I got to New Haven at 3:15 where Jack, Sherrie's husband (another friend indeed) picked me up at John's mechanics and helped me move the luggage from the Land Rover to Jack's aging Volvo and take the luggage and me to Jack's, where my car waited.
I got to the dog in plenty of time and after he almost knocked me down with gratitude for his rescue we went home to wait for Andrew's rescued souls.
I got home at five and Andrew got the crew of wrecked ship "Land Rover" back to New Haven a short time after. (Bern told me he actually thanked them for 'the adventure' since he was reading some Yale graduate student papers and couldn't wait to drive to Perth Amboy and back....a saint-in-waiting, at least.)
So I drove down to New Haven and got Bern and we came home--just like those two pigeons in the last two posts...we came home.
The dog is 'home' and the cat and the bird (cared for while we were gone by our high school senior next door neighbor, were there already, waiting for Bern and me).
I have a real affinity to our two North Carolina pigeons. Home is where you feel safe, where they have to love you, where you are meant to sit down and BE. Just that...'be'.
The adventure is over. We will tell the tale to ourselves and others over and again as the years pass--embellishing greatly, all taking credit for great calmness in adversity, each of us, in our own way, sharing a bit of the limelight of hero and heroine.
What a way to 'come home'!
And how good it is to 'be here', at last, 'at home'.....
So that's where we stop going and coming, to break up what would be a 12 hour journey straight through.
Since we left the beach early, we got to the motel around 4, though, since we are all over 60, we stop to pee quite often....
After an early dinner, the plan was to leave around 6 a.m. so there would be plenty of time for me to pick up Bela at the Kennel between four and five. And so we did and somewhere in Maryland, John's GPS was predicting we'd get to New Haven, where our car was, around one p.m. All was well and all was well and all manner of things were well.
We stopped in Maryland to get coffee and pee and then again around mile 80 of the New Jersey Turnpike to pee and get a light snack, it still being well before noon. Five miles later, adventure began!
(I could have called this post, "the trip home from hell"--which, if you look at it cynically, it certainly could have been. But cynicism is a dead end that is a hell all itself. I prefer to find 'adventure' rather than tragedy in the vicissitudes of life. You can't avoid them, after all, so why make a big fat 'drama' out of them when it's just as easily seen as something out of an action/adventure movie?)
At mile post 85.5 of the NJ Turnpike, the serpentine belt of John's Land Rover broke and failed. I remember the exact place because we were suddenly on a shoulder of the Turnpike that barely contained the Land Rover and from the front seat passenger seat I was staring at the mile marker. John called AAA and was told they couldn't service breakdowns on the Turnpike but transferred him to the Turnpike Authority that dispatched a truck that arrived within 20 minutes. The driver was delightful and packed Bern, Sherry, John and me into his cab for the two exit ride to what I believe was Perth Amboy, NJ, though I have no comprehension of NJ geography. He set John's car down in a shopping center where AAA could come and get it.
The second tow truck arrived within half-an-hour and was going to tow John's car to his mechanic in New Haven. John has super-duper AAA service and the 105 mile tow as going to cost him only $12! Someone had to ride with the driver and John suggested I go since I would get to New Haven and my car in time to go get the dog.
Andrew, another friend in New Haven, agreed to drive to Perth Amboy and pick up the other three folks from the deserted island of a Walmart shopping center. (Imagine that--Andrew agreed, without hesitation, to drive 2 hours + to pick up the stranded adventurers! That is a friend indeed, perhaps a saint for the lost castaways....)
So, Jim the tow truck driver (actually it was a flatbed truck, not a truck with and hook) and I sat off on the next stage of the adventure. We doubtless passed Andrew going the other way but never knew it ('ships in the night/adventure' and all that).
Jim and I enjoyed the ride and I got to New Haven at 3:15 where Jack, Sherrie's husband (another friend indeed) picked me up at John's mechanics and helped me move the luggage from the Land Rover to Jack's aging Volvo and take the luggage and me to Jack's, where my car waited.
I got to the dog in plenty of time and after he almost knocked me down with gratitude for his rescue we went home to wait for Andrew's rescued souls.
I got home at five and Andrew got the crew of wrecked ship "Land Rover" back to New Haven a short time after. (Bern told me he actually thanked them for 'the adventure' since he was reading some Yale graduate student papers and couldn't wait to drive to Perth Amboy and back....a saint-in-waiting, at least.)
So I drove down to New Haven and got Bern and we came home--just like those two pigeons in the last two posts...we came home.
The dog is 'home' and the cat and the bird (cared for while we were gone by our high school senior next door neighbor, were there already, waiting for Bern and me).
I have a real affinity to our two North Carolina pigeons. Home is where you feel safe, where they have to love you, where you are meant to sit down and BE. Just that...'be'.
The adventure is over. We will tell the tale to ourselves and others over and again as the years pass--embellishing greatly, all taking credit for great calmness in adversity, each of us, in our own way, sharing a bit of the limelight of hero and heroine.
What a way to 'come home'!
And how good it is to 'be here', at last, 'at home'.....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)