Words, Ponderings and Scraps in Between
A note: 2020, at times, felt like a smooshed, slightly stale, custard doughnut – it was blurry round its edges, was very sticky in the middle and yet, for me, it had some sweet moments too.
The following words sum up little pockets of my ponderings (but by no means capture the full essence of this past year):
Gratitude
Friendship
Adrenaline
Inventiveness
Haze
Restlessness
Warmth
Trust
Movement
Learning
Growth
Weariness
Breath.
Breathe.
Breathing.
2020. A year to focus on breath(ing).
In and out
In and out
In and out.
I cannot breathe. A refrain for this year.
Australian wildfires.
Respiratory disease.
Systemic racism.
Each dilemma pointing out the wounds in
our globalised body.
Be it climate change.
Healthcare inequality.
Racial injustice.
Every wound runs deep.
Every breath runs shallow.
Bewilder.
Be wilder.
Be wild.
Be full of the wild.
—
What does it mean to be full of wilder?
A mishmash of
negative and positive
adrenaline and anticipation.
Profoundly exhilarating
yet
profoundly debilitating.
—
Looking round with eyes wide,
an uncontained sense of
surprise,
shock,
suspense.
Unearthing some juicy gossip,
swallowing a spicy chilli,
submerging in icy water.
—
Time
slows
down.
It could be over
within seconds
but linger there for
hours,
days,
years.
—
Sweating of palms,
skipping of heart,
lurching of gut.
Embodied and disembodied
simultaneously.
Being full of wilder is
curious,
joyful
and
human.
January – Preparation
February – Jaunt
March – Endlessness
April – Freshness
May – Sidestep
June – Strain
July – Progress
August – Chaos
September – Drag
October – Fragility
November – Refreshment
December – Illumination
(cor) ruption of thoughts
(dis) ruption of ideas
(e) ruption of actions
I’ve been wondering about writing something like this for a little while. I feel like there’s a growing amount of content being pushed out there into the world about living life as a twenty-something. So, I’m throwing my hat into the ring. I’m not sure if my words really add much depth or breadth to the thoughts of others but here we are.
Today I’m writing about staying rooted and the challenges that come with that.
Before I begin though I want to caveat with a few notices about myself. These are things that inform my words, providing a bit of context for where I’m at in the world:
But enough notices. On to the topic of today: staying rooted.
To give some context, when I graduated, I knew I wanted to stay in Glasgow. It’s a place where I’ve done a lot of growing up, made incredible pals and is full to the brim with creativity, activism and friendly people. So that’s what I’ve done. I’ve stayed.
And in the years since graduating many close pals have left, moving to other cities (and countries), sometimes out of choice, sometimes not. For many of these friends, it’s not been easy. Settling in to new (or old) routines, rhythms and social circles is hard and I massively respect them for it!
In the middle of these changes, I’ve done a whole lot of praying, asking God for direction. Questions like: where should I be? What should I be pouring my energy into? What opportunities should I be searching for? And in the noisiness of these questions, I’ve so far not felt any sort of nudge to leave Glasgow. (But I did recently feel strongly led to move to the east end and get involved in the community here. I’m honestly not sure how long I’ll live here for but it won’t be forever I’m pretty sure.)
Right now, I feel called to stay put and this has its benefits. I know others and am known at a deep level. Places are familiar and you grow into new spaces too (I’ve loved learning more about the public transport system in Glasgow haha). There are roots here. All of these things are significant and life-giving.
But staying rooted also brings challenges. It’s only recently that I’ve found ways of clarifying and articulating what these are:
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I feel called to stay rooted to where I am and who I am surrounded by. This, at times, feels hard. Rootedness requires commitment. Commitment requires obedience. Obedience requires discipline and patience.
I think we are called to stay rooted and present, even if we’re unsure about how long we might stay in a place. (This can feel particularly hard being a twenty-something when everything can feel unmoored or shifting.) But I’m willing to give it a go. I’m willing to commit, to obey, to be patient with myself.
My hope is that I can match this rootedness with openness. I want both to work in tandem with one another. For, ultimately, I want to be open to living, being and changing wherever God leads me.
Last week saw the 2019 world athletic championships play out in Doha. Over the course of the championships, there were some issues that drew attention away from the sport. The most notable one for me was the lack of attendance and the empty stadium. As the world watched on, there were empty seats and a sombre atmosphere.
However, this did improve as the championships went on, as people heard about and saw more athletic achievements. Crowds were drawn in by the celebrations and joy that sport offers. I watched it a lot from home and found myself joining in with the enthusiasm through my screen. Athletics, and sport in general, brings people together to thrill and excite.
This week we’re seeing a different type of gathering happening across London. Irrespective of what you think about their actions, Extinction Rebellion, have drawn thousands of people together in protests. In contrast to the athletics, these individuals have been gathered through crisis. They’re motivated by their distress over climate justice and want systemic change.
It made me think about togetherness. What draws us to each other? How do we connect with one another?
In the gospels, we see the disciples wrestling with these questions. They are people who gather in both trial and tribulation. In failure and celebration. Consistently they come to Jesus in moments of crisis and moments of deep joy. He is present throughout these times. It is profound to think of Jesus as someone who could both laugh and cry with his followers. Togetherness, for him, looks like being able to celebrate the miracles and respond to times of doubt and confusion.
Undoubtedly, we will all face times in our lives and world where there is cause for celebration or distress. During these moments, we can ponder what it means to do these things in community, not in isolation. For it is ultimately togetherness that brings about joy, hope, peace and love.
autumn light lingers around
waiting, just waiting.
sifting gently through the air
finding a landing.
catches bravely at shadows
illuminating.
it lifts off minute details
embellishing them.
its essence simply comes from
comparison
of what its counterpoint can
or cannot achieve.
