Losses

Is loss necessary? Judith Viorst wrote a book I read years ago called Necessary Losses. In my own purging of my apartment I am beginning to suspect my tiredness is linked to an element of loss even though I am achieving freedom from being shackled down to all this stuff I have accumulated. I have been going to bed before 11pm which is unheard of. I think this is healthy loss still with a cost.

My boss loss his father last Sunday and went straight to the airport from the bedside. That's tough, and in that loss I remember my own father's disappearance; I returned home from a holiday to a quiet household, his body already gone. Lord Tennyson's poem Morte d'Arthur is a special piece for me because if this little piece as Arthur dying is placed in a barge and set off.

More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend?

Losses may be necessary, an inevitable part of life but that does not diminish the pain created by an absence, by the space left empty in a life. Freedom isn't everything.

Seeing and asking and smelling

I was talking to my neighbour because last Sunday I watched many women coming out of the local Orthodox church with a branch or handful of a green plant. I discovered that this is a tradition that comes from the time of Constantine, a Roman emperor who embraced the Christian faith giving it official status in the Empire. His mother Helen is reputed to have found the remains of the cross. St Helen took part of the wood and nails with her to Constantinople where Constantine gave orders to build at Jerusalem the Church of the Resurrection.

The temple was constructed in about ten years. St Helen did not survive until the dedication of the temple, she died in the year 327. The church was consecrated on September 13, 335. On the following day, September 14, the festal celebration of the Exaltation of the Venerable and Life-Creating Cross was established. The basil grew where the Holy Cross was found. Tradition tells that the aroma of the basil attracted Saint Helena and she ordered the workmen to dig there. Incidentally basil (βασιλικός) in Greek means kingly, royal. I feel honoured that my neighbour gave me a sprig of basil from her porch. The smell of basil took a new twist in meaning for me and so did my relationship with my neighbour.

Supposedly basil helps to promote higher states of awareness and open the heart and mind. It has an extraordinary antispasmodic action that makes it useful in the treatment of muscular cramps, all respiratory tract infection, asthma, and bronchitis. The oil possesses antiviral, anti-infectious and antibacterial properties and is uplifting and stimulating and helps chase away the blues. Perhaps I should start growing it?

Nothing new under the Sun

I’ve been clearing into the deeper corners of my bedroom and so much dust and stuff has been cleaned sorted or gone down the stairs and out the front door. I’m working on two file boxes of talks I gave in the period 1986-1992. A long time ago but the OHP acetates I prepared are works of art or graphic design with a wide use of colour and different fonts and images and pictures. I even hand tinted the black and white pictures!

What surprised me was the outlines of the talks were pretty similar to those now. I’m still going on about the same things. What is it they say? Preachers/teachers really only have one message? I’m beginning to think its true. Probably I’m still asking the same question “So where’s your passion?” Perhaps in deeper ways with more information but the question is still the same. Does this mean I haven't grown or changed if the issues are still the same?