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Showing posts from April, 2016

carried: home

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I walked with a yellow star,
one of the fallen flakes
leaving the arms of the ones
who gave them life; she showed
me the last of the brushes, singing
to the wind and the wide blue sky;
then I let her go and we each
took flight.



Throwback Thursday. Poetry. Humanity.

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Midweek Musing. Whither have we wandered?

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It's 3 am, so naturally I am awake. Well, OK, that was a little sarcastic. It is 3 am.

Instead of going back to sleep, my mind started wandering. For some reason, it wandered to ethical food. I was thinking about what I have to do today, get up in a few hours and go shopping for food for this evening's event, I was thinking corn chips with a dip, but so many corn chips are made with palm oil unethically produced ...



What state has humanity got to that we need to qualify when a product is ethically produced? Fair trade chocolate that is made without the labour of slaves - yes, slaves, in the 21st century. Fair trade clothes made without labour in unsafe conditions for unfair wages. Palm oil produced without decimating the land and its inhabitants. Make up or shampoo produced without testing that harms animals.

That we have to state on our chocolate and coffee and clothes that humans were treated with dignity in the making of these products is, to me, utterly ridiculous. Surely,…

In His House. Remembering The Bard.

Today it is 400 years since my kindred spirit, William Shakespeare, died.

Yesterday, I recorded an album of the poems and stories that contain tributes, allusions and hat-tips to my beloved bard.

It felt like an appropriate thing to do in this anniversary season.

While we wait for the album to be released - watch this space - please enjoy this recording of a rehearsal of the title track, 'In His House'.

Thanks, Will, for the stories and the poems, the characters and the mirror to our humanity.

Throwback Thursday: choosing love, not fear

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Midweek Musing : Where the Heart

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'When do you go home - I mean, back - I mean, to your other home?'

A few people have posed this, or similarly phrased, questions in my recent trips home to Adelaide from Edinburgh, where I currently reside.

This trip, which will be my last for over a year on current projections, and this moment in time, half way through the PhD (probably), I am pondering home - what is it, where is it, why do I not want to leave this time?

For the answer I feel like giving, to that question about when will I return to Scotland, is, I wish I didn't have to. My heart breaks to hear myself acknowledge this response. And I long for some peace, some joy, for the return to Edinburgh next month. But just now, home is where I want to stay.



I spend a lot of time with people who are living away from 'home', for the short-term, long-term, or an indeterminate length of time. How we live in our 'other' home of Edinburgh is determined by so many factors.

Why we left home.
What brought us…

Faith: Throwback Thursday lines of poetry

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Midweek Musing: noticing gifts and difference

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Yesterday I led a session for the Uniting Church's Mission Resourcing team here in South Australia. This team encourages and equips congregations and the Uniting Church generally in South Australia in the areas of justice, intercultural relationships, intergenerational worship and education, and international relationships.

I introduced my work with story, presented for them one portion of Paul's letter to Rome (Chapter 12), inviting them to wonder, then inviting them to consider in what ways deeper and more confident knowledge of the Sacred Story might change the work in which they are engaged. Wondering included that better knowledge of identity by knowing the story builds confidence when meeting with difference, so we need not fear that difference; and more confidence allows an openness in relationships, across cultures and generations.



Then I invited the team to play. Taking Acts 9:1–6, which is one of the stories on the lectionary for this coming Sunday, we spoke the stor…

Throwback Thursday favourite lines of poetry

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Midweek Musing: but I have stories to tell you

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When you tell me you can't be there
When you have a story to tell, the one thing you need more than a particular kind of venue, or a storyteller's outfit, or even food and drink, is an audience. Every story needs someone to hear it.



This thought occurs to me anew in anticipation of a busy schedule of storytelling performances during April in Adelaide, Australia, as I reflect on why I am so disappointed when someone – whoever they are – says they won't or can't be at a particular storytelling event. But I have stories to tell you ... 

I care about the stories I have to tell, their characters, the movement of the story and the way it makes me feel. I love them, and want them to be received and loved by others.

I care about the hearers of those stories and the potential of story to move you, change you, inspire, challenge and delight you.

So as much as I am disappointed you won't bear witness to the work I have done, won't see me, or receive my gifts (all the com…