Thursday, June 30, 2005

Under attack


I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Familiar creatures in the centre of York, though rare in our back lane. A grey squirrel has discovered the birdfeeder and when I interrupted it, it was gnawing its way through the plastic to get at the seed inside.
The bird feeders attract an interesting range of songbirds to the garden. Goldfinches bring exotic colours and beautiful song. Robins nested in the clematis next door but the cats killed the fledglings as they attempted to fly. The blue and great tits stay through the winter and last weekend there was either a Willow or Marsh tit on the feeder (they're had to tell apart).
But now I'm feeding a squirrel - I've seen the footage of their determintaion to find food. Defying gravity and just about every other obstacle put in their way. Initially I hooked a wire basket between the feeder and the fence - but that was removed within a few minutes. The same basket is now firmly wedged into place. It's survived the day. Tomorrow will show how determined this little rodent is. In the meantime the songbirds are welcome.
I like birds but I'm not a birdwatcher. Simon Barnes released me from the condemnation I inflicted on myself for not not knowing everything about these little creatures. How to be a bad birdwatcher is worth the read - and then you can put out a birdfeeder, relax and enjoy the company. You never know what might call in for a snack and to test your ingenuity.

Faith through Dunblane

There's not usually much inspiration within the pages of the UK Press Gazette. It's a trade newspaper for journalists that's just been bought by Piers Morgan. The front page graphic about the future of professional journalism in the face of the blog caught my eye and I kept it back when I was recycling the old papers this week. (Usually The Telegraph if you're interested - I also subscribe to the Digital Guardian and read it online)
What inspired me wasn't the feature about blogging but a report about the ordination of George Pitcher. He's a former business editor at The Observer and now an author and director of a PR company. According to the article his path to ordination started at a service in St Brides Fleet Street, the morning after the Dunblane massacre. He's quoted as saying "I was wandering around feeling rather numb that morning, feeling ashamed to be human. I went to communion and then started coming every week". He was ordained in St Paul's last week and will serve as a non stipendary curate at St Brides.
So twice in a week I hear about Dunblane - the other? Young Andy Murray who delighted the crowds at Wimbledon. While George was feeling ashamed to be human, Andy was making sense of what had happened at his school. He'd hidden in the headmaster's office while a gunman opened fire in the gymnasium. We can't escape the evil in the world - but thankfully some manage to light a light in the darkness.

Living in a van

He didn't look very happy as he trudged, round shouldered, past the west front of York Minster last night. But as soon as I spoke to him, John brightened up, just as though I'd touched a switch inside him.
He was on his way to a phone box to call his wife, and I was inviting people to come into church for our worship cafe. For the next hour I listened to a fascinating story. John lives in the Orkneys but works as a civil servant in Leeds. He plays the organ for two churches in Filey and lives in his van when he's a way from home. He made no secret of his hopes for early retirement. Anticipation of it is what prompted him and his wife to sell up their North Yorkshire home and move to the far north. So every few weeks, John points his van north and catches the ferry from the mainland home for a 12 day break. During his working time here he plays the organ at weekends and calls his wife every night.
He seemed really pleased to have somewhere to sit, chat and drink coffee as the contemporary worship music played in the background. I enjoyed listening to him too. It makes it worth standing outside St Michael le Belfrey church on Wednesday evenings handing out invitations for coffee and worship. If you're passing York Minster this summer pop into St Mikes for a chat.

Podcasts

Apple (UK and Ireland) - iTunes - Podcasting iTunes 4.9 is here - with Podcasting. I was resistant to the iPOD for ages - thinking that Creative or Sony could produce something equally exciting. But then I was bought an iPod as a gift and it integrates so well with iTunes and Macx OSX that finding new material to download really straightforward. I have used other music download sites and they are truly dreadful and often only accessible from a PC. Windows Media is equally awful. Half of the new tunes I downloaded recently were catalogued under Maroon 5. I'm advised there's a bug that corrupts the database. Well I've found the solution - Mac OSX, iTunes and iPod. Now - how do these Podcasts work - it must be time to produce one on a regular basis.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Dawning of this blog

Each day is a new challenge - what will happen to me today and even more important what can I do for others today?
I have kept a number of informal blogs (are there other kinds?) for some time now - and I knew that one day I would open a public one.
I have recently left the BBC and started my own business - teaching people to make Digital Stories. It won't be the biggest moneyspinner in the training or media world but I believe passionately in giving people the skills to tell their own stories.
I am at the stage of setting up and feeling the temperature of the water. I'll record some of the progress here while keeping the "proper" website up to date too. So take a look at www.digistories.co.uk

Monday, June 27, 2005

Ordination

My friend Phil was ordained in York Minster this weekend. We arrived late for the service - I thought it started at 10.30am - and found 2 seats in the north aisle near the back. The sermon began as we sat down.
Jesus was in that service - not at the front where the bishop, archdeacon and minster canons were enunciating the liturgy - but alongside a sick woman opposite us in the nave. I became aware that while the Holy Spirit is everywhere and was certainly involved in the ordination ceremony, Jesus gives personal attention to individuals and particular situations. I have learned to find him where the pain is the most intense and the suffering difficult to understand. The woman I saw in the service took her seat while the rest of us obeyed the order in the service sheet to stand. She reached up her had to the man standing next to her who seemed to understand her pain as he touched it and smiled. Throughout the service young people from a row of seats to our right shuffled across to see her - to ask questions, give her a hug or simply to be reassured in the unfamiliar surrounding of this place of granduer and ritual. She didn't turn any of them away or scold them for not remaining in their seats. I could have asked, "Why is this woman suffering? Where is God?" God, in the presence of his Son Jesus, is always with the weak, the poor and the sick. And that's where he was in that service. The ordination had the full attention of the Holy Sprit while Jesus did what he excelled in - being in the place of suffering.
It was a moving moment.

It always surprises me that in these big services there are often ancient hymns and anthems that I have never heard or sung before. So it was with some relief that the chords of a familar tune rang out at the start of the recessional hymn. The service closed with Crown Him with many Crowns. I was in full flow until the last verse. Up to that point in the hymn the praise was directed to a somewhat distant monarch and deity. The Lamb upon his throne ... whose power a sceptre sways ... The Lord of years. But there was another surprise in the last verse.
All Hail Redeemer Hail, For Thou hast died for ME, Thy praise shall never never fail - his praise may not fail but my voice did. I opened my mouth to sing but the words stuck in my throat. For ME. It was as though He had walked across the aisle and it was my turn for special attention. I was overwhelmed. Thank you Jesus - and thank you Phil for inviting me to your ordination. I couldn't see Phil from our aisle seatas the bishop laid hands on him in the minster but his name had been called out and I shook his hand afterwards. It was a special day for him too.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Mayonnaise Jar Philosophy

I thank my friend Chris Gledhill for circulating this story


When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the beer.


A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a more hesitant "yes."

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed. Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.

The golf balls are the important things - your family, your children, your health, your friends, and your passions, things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full." "The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else - the small stuff. "If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. "Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical check-ups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked," he said. "It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers."


(Imported from my Serendipity blog)