Category: Home

Happy new year!

May your vision be clear and your life full of love in 2020. Here’s to the ongoing journey. I wonder where yours will take you…?

A few years ago, I came across the poet John O’Donohue for the first time. This quote I saw so grabbed me that I immediately looked for the rest of the poem-prayer. Every year I find myself thinking it’s a good one to start a new year with:

“May I have the courage today

To live the life that I would love

To postpone my dream no longer

But do at last what I came here for

And waste my heart on fear no more.”

from A morning offering by John O’Donohue

Happy Christmas! 💫 🎄

A couple of perspectives from my travelling:

1. A major part of the joy of travelling is coming home. This Christmas I particularly feel for people who are forced to travel and have no prospect of returning home, particularly asylum seekers who are exiled from their own country and barely welcomed in ours, where the language, culture and climate are so different, where they have to relearn how to do everything you need to do to survive. They face these challenges in a situation where they have no status, and are not allowed to work to earn money and provide for themselves. I can only begin to imagine how demeaning that feels.

The crazy thing is that they are usually very skilled people, who really want to contribute and who are real grafters as well. I also feel for people on the streets who have no home to return to at all.

Of course the Christmas story involves a family travelling. They were returning to Joseph’s ancestral home. But what that was like for a pregnant Mary I don’t know. And shortly afterwards they had to flee to Egypt; a much longer journey to a country where the language, culture and many other things would have been different. Food for thought…

2. Weirdly, although many of us struggle with the short days and dark nights and mornings at this time of year in our time zone, when I was in Australia, I remember I reached a point when my body was longing for the days to get shorter (at the very point when they were in fact getting longer over there). I was longing for dark and cold! And I have loved coming back to the dark and cold. I wonder whether viewing this season as one for hibernation (as a few of my friends have been doing) is a more positive and natural way of living in it. Demanding less of ourselves each day. It’s a thought.

Anyway, I hope whatever your circumstances that you and yours have a happy Christmas. And wherever there is darkness, may light come.

Packing and the forgetting of things

So I’m off to visit my folks for Christmas now. And in the rush of finishing last tasks and getting ready, it’s been amazing how much easier packing has become for me. Admittedly, it’s a lot easier going from my own home to mum and dad’s than packing to go from one unfamiliar place/country to another, of course. But also, I recognise just how skilled I’ve become at packing, through practice. I know the dimensions and capacity of each section of my suitcase inside out and back to front now! And I know how many clothes I need for 2 weeks. (It’s pretty much the same amount as for any length of time.) And I know that it’s really worth limiting the amount of footwear you take to save space in the suitcase. (I also am able to be more realistic about what footwear I will find useful.)

I’m hoping I’ve not forgotten anything, having said all that!… Ah. Tights. I forgot those. But if I really want to wear them, I can buy some new ones. (Always useful.) This is another perspective I’ve come to through travelling. It’s really not the end of the world if you forget something or leave something behind. Saying that, I don’t think I actually lost anything on my travels. (Or if I did, I’ve forgotten about it already, so it can’t have been that serious.)

The worst forgetting of things I did was accidentally leaving a pile of currency behind at my Aunt and Uncle’s place in New Zealand, when we went travelling for three and a half weeks! That was a boo boo. I wasted a lot of time and energy mentally berating myself about it, before realising that I could just spend the money using my bank card and then do a transaction with my relatives when we got back where I gave them cash as they transferred the same amount into my account. It was a faff, and I really should’ve listened to my Uncle and got him to take the cash out and give it to me as then I’d have avoided the bank charge and the hassle for all of us of doing an international bank transfer. But then the lady in their bank was so nice, it was a delight to give them some business, actually. (Can’t believe I just said that! Normally I hate banks on principle. [Sorry if you work for a bank!])

That story gives you an indication of just how systemically culturally lovely people are in New Zealand. Even bank employees at work! Nothing too much trouble, and a lot of chat about our holidays and hers while we waited for the hamster to run around its wheel on her computer. What a breath of fresh air!

Things I learnt while travelling #256 (there must have been at least that many): there’s not a lot of point wasting time and energy mentally berating yourself when you make a mistake. Better to think, ‘Oh well, I could’ve done that better, but I didn’t manage to’, let it go and move onto more useful questions like: What is the situation now? And how can I move forwards in it?

The thing is, while ever you’re mentally berating yourself, you are not able to be fully present. You are living in a very negative version of the past, rather than noticing the gift of the present moment. I set out on my travels knowing that I wanted to be fully present in all the wonderful places I would go to, and with all the people I would spend time with. I hope I can carry that sense of presence with me now, even when I’m not travelling…

Election night

Well, they managed to take so long over organising the election that I was back in time to vote. I’m thankful for that, at least. But otherwise, I have to say the mood here is gloomy and not a little anxious. And I feel frustrated that some of the people hardest hit by the policies of our current government somehow still don’t link their own struggles with the cruel policies that have by and large caused them.

And I’m annoyed that so many people who live here and work and contribute in many ways to our society don’t get a vote, because they are from somewhere else.

But none of this is significant compared with the daily torrent of horror stories I hear about people stuck in our totally dysfunctional asylum system, under constant threat of being sent back to life threatening situations. And the stories of ordinary local people taking their own lives because they just can’t see how they can feed themselves and their families, even though they are working, because they are not paid enough and the work is based on a zero hours contract which, let’s face it, is no contract at all.

Then I remember my own story. Not so long ago, I was diagnosed with cancer, and became the grateful recipient of thousands of pounds worth of world class medical treatment on the NHS. My oncologist friend quietly informed me at the start of this that if I had loads of money and went for private healthcare, it would make no difference, because the private system would refer me to the NHS for my treatment anyway. Because our NHS is that good, it can’t be beaten by private healthcare when it comes to cancer treatment. Just stop and reread that for a moment. And I paid nothing for this, because the NHS exists to treat people at their point of need, irrespective of their income or social standing.

And yet recently, I heard of a guy stuck in the asylum system for over ten years, who’s been sent bills for thousands of pounds for his life saving NHS treatment, because our current government is committed to creating a “hostile environment” for all asylum seekers. He literally came out of a coma to be presented with a bill he can have no hope of paying because this government won’t let him work. He’d love to work, but he’s not allowed to. But they want him to pay for his treatment.

I am appalled that anyone in our country has voted to let this type of situation continue, and no doubt get worse. And this is not some random urban myth. I know the guy’s Dad, also stuck in the asylum system for over ten years, who was released from detention and threat of deportation just a few months ago only because of a change.org petition, which went viral instantly due to the guy’s tireless voluntary work in the city, and a Guardian headline, which forced the Home Office to give him a reprieve. Temporarily.

These stories are the stories of my friends. I am ashamed to live in a country where we not only think this is OK but we vote to let it continue. I’ve stayed up this late watching the election. I hope the result is not as the predictions suggest, but I fear it will be.

Whatever happens, there is tomorrow. We’re never beyond redemption, but we are going to need to help each other and encourage each other in the days ahead. And I’d love to challenge myself and everyone else to consider people who, often through no fault of their own, have fallen on hard times. Anyone can get cancer, or be made redundant, or suffer a mental illness that makes it impossible for them to work. Today it might be someone else, tomorrow it could be me or you. I’d love to see a government that actually gave a damn about those vulnerable people, and made some provision for them.

…And don’t even get me started on climate change. Until we start taking that much more seriously the world literally is going to hell in a handcart.

Things I took

Another break from all the food posts!

My friend Laura taught me how to make the print on this bag, and gave me the materials, space and time to make it. Then, inspired by the poem Beyond by Sh’maya, and by the book The Thread by Victoria Hislop, leant to me by my friend Katharine, I sewed the words onto it probably a couple of years ago, long before I had any plans to travel around the world. What a gift it turned out to be.

I took the bag with me (of course). It’s very useful when you’re on a train or coach with a big backpack and maybe also a suitcase but you want your water bottle, ticket, purse, passport and snacks etc close to hand.

It was also very good at reminding me of the enticement and adventure of the unknown, which otherwise can feel pretty scary. And that every ocean does ultimately bring a beach. When feeling far from home it was good to remember that all of these places are somebody’s home. Even a remote desert island would be home to some creatures and plants who are all part of the same big creation as us.

Beyond was commissioned by someone setting out on a new venture, facing all the risk that entails. To hear Sh’maya recite his wonderful poem, go here: https://youtu.be/nqqnJ9kqSgI

Thoughts about home

I drafted this post while I was on my way from Melbourne, Australia to Singapore.

I am about two thirds of the way through my three month odyssey. One of the topics I have been thinking about a lot for a long time is “home”. My reflections have been borne out of many experiences, some of which I’d like to share, as I have a hunch that they’re important, somehow. I guessed that travelling literally so far away from home for so long could only enrich my reflections, and so far it really has.

In this post I’ll simply list some of the things I’m missing about home. Perhaps that will help provide a glimpse into what home could mean.

Things I’m missing:

The comfort of my own bed

Not having to keep packing all my stuff up into a suitcase

Not having to keep checking I’ve got travel documents to hand

The days getting shorter for winter (my body is really missing that at the moment somehow. At St Kilda’s beach, which is a beautiful spot in Melbourne, I caught myself thinking, “How come the sun hasn’t set more than that yet?” even though I didn’t want the day to end, it had been so beautiful.)

The crisp cold sunny blue sky autumn days Sheffield does so well

The people – my housemates, friends, normal phone calls to family (though in fact I’ve had more communication with some people through photos and messages, WhatsApp and this blog than usual, it’s not the same)

Our cat Xena (Warrior Princess) who’s probably still scared of the cat flap (mental note: must ask for a progress report on that!), and must surely need some strokey time from Aunt Ali by now

Knowing where stuff is and how to go about getting what I need or how to get from one place to another without looking it up online or having to ask somebody

The rhythm of our household, including times of praying together, our quiet days (although I’m managing to build in some lovely quiet times and days or half days here and there), eating together and with other friends, our household’s lovely long brunches

The rhythm of other groups I am a part of – our simple silences, meals, reflections, body prayers (I’ve done a few while I’ve been away, but here’s a mental note to do more) and local companionship with people in Contemplative Fire

Cooking, and knowing what’s in the food I’m eating

Singing in the choirs I belong to

The Peak District/English countryside and coasts

…I’m sure there’s more, but that’s a taster anyway.

In the meantime, things I’m not missing:

The news about Brexit (pretty glad to escape this to be honest, hoping if there’s anything requiring a vote that I’ll be back in time for it)

Having to pick up my medication

My usual pattern of building up huge amounts of laundry then having a blitz. (Turns out I quite like only having so many clothes and doing one load of washing more regularly rather than two loads less regularly. I’ve been fortunate that so far washing facilities have been great everywhere.)

Where to…?

Here’s a map showing the route I’ll take for my Big Trip around the world. In each place I’m staying with friends and family, apart from my little backpacking adventure in SE Asia. The UK is ridiculously big and central on this map of course. Hmmm… I think I’m about to be reminded that we are really not that big or central.

Leaving in the midst of the threat of a “no deal” Brexit crash out of the EU is… interesting. At the recommendation of my cousin’s daughter, I’ve just watched John Oliver’s 22 minute piece on Boris Johnson on You Tube. A good way to negotiate the transition from the UK to the USA. It’s both hilarious and scary. Worth a google especially for people in the UK or indeed USA if you’ve not already seen it.

Last night, along with the You Tube recommendation I enjoyed fabulous hospitality from my cousin and her family. Among other things I was so grateful for this very English comfort to set me on my way 👆🏼

In the meantime, I’m about to board my first flight, and hoping that my plan of travelling anti-clockwise in order to avoid too much jet lag will work out…