Among
Just been reading a poem I wrote last time I was here. Think it was about a year into things when the pace had properly picked up and all i wanted to do was to slow down, be among people and write. So, as a note to self, I wrote this.......
Time now to drop off the plate of activity
That’s set me spinning above the surface of this land
And walk, slowly, feeling the soil beneath my feet.
All that’s fuelled the way so far has dissipated
And bright lights have come down to earth,
Gathered in one small steady flame.
Now as I settle into this season of quiet surrender,
May the soul of this place speak, and its stories
Find words to rest upon, and rise.
Reading it again, months later, it still resonates. And helps explain some of the tiredness I've been feeling lately too. I think part of me's in the same eeeeeeeking!! place, just wanting to slow right down and truly be here.
Which kind of happened on Sunday. Instead of church I sat in a cafe drinking tea for a few hours and then went round Toul Sleng genocide museum on a photo shoot, looking for signs of life. Obviously not the cheeriest of places, I know, but having been several times before, I avoided the really grim bits and found solace instead in images like these:
At one point I wandered through with a group of Cambodians of grandparent/great-grandparent age. Knowing that they had lived through the Khmer Rouge years, it was particularly poignant watching their faces and reactions. One kept hesitating at the threshold of each doorway and another just wanted to talk. Eventually she came over to me, grabbed my hands and after a brief exchange of sausadays (hellos) and sok sabays (how are yous), just looked at me and smiled. And somehow there was an understanding in that moment which would have been easily missed had I been rushing.
So just to finish (and breaking the 15 minute rule completely), here's a piece of writing i really like that sums up a lot of what I'm trying say..... Goodnight x
“More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have time to practise this simple ministry of presence.
Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets.
It is difficult not to have plans, not to organise people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress. But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes and hugs that you do not simply like them, but truly love them.”
from Gracias by Henri Nouwen
Time now to drop off the plate of activity
That’s set me spinning above the surface of this land
And walk, slowly, feeling the soil beneath my feet.
All that’s fuelled the way so far has dissipated
And bright lights have come down to earth,
Gathered in one small steady flame.
Now as I settle into this season of quiet surrender,
May the soul of this place speak, and its stories
Find words to rest upon, and rise.
Reading it again, months later, it still resonates. And helps explain some of the tiredness I've been feeling lately too. I think part of me's in the same eeeeeeeking!! place, just wanting to slow right down and truly be here.
Which kind of happened on Sunday. Instead of church I sat in a cafe drinking tea for a few hours and then went round Toul Sleng genocide museum on a photo shoot, looking for signs of life. Obviously not the cheeriest of places, I know, but having been several times before, I avoided the really grim bits and found solace instead in images like these:
At one point I wandered through with a group of Cambodians of grandparent/great-grandparent age. Knowing that they had lived through the Khmer Rouge years, it was particularly poignant watching their faces and reactions. One kept hesitating at the threshold of each doorway and another just wanted to talk. Eventually she came over to me, grabbed my hands and after a brief exchange of sausadays (hellos) and sok sabays (how are yous), just looked at me and smiled. And somehow there was an understanding in that moment which would have been easily missed had I been rushing.
So just to finish (and breaking the 15 minute rule completely), here's a piece of writing i really like that sums up a lot of what I'm trying say..... Goodnight x
“More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have time to practise this simple ministry of presence.
Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets.
It is difficult not to have plans, not to organise people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress. But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes and hugs that you do not simply like them, but truly love them.”
from Gracias by Henri Nouwen
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