Captain Justice - on being me

2009-08-15T20:42:00.002+01:00

Day - after we've come home

So we left civilisation and travelled to Scotland's west coast - the isle of Iona; then to the east coast - the isle of Lindisfarne; then to Oxford; then to London - Croydon.

Along the way we ran another 3 festivals, I shaved (in London), visited West Minster cathedral and discovered that it's 15 quid to get in, which I personally think is daylight robbery and rather unbecoming of the British, get rather wet camping on Iona, narrowly missed an enormous thunderstorm whilst setting up tents near Lindisfarne, patted some horses and ate a lot of food. We also did some pilgrimage stuff too.

Probably the best thing was visiting Iona and having an hour's silence - and the service at the abbey there. There's something about actually touching and smelling and seeing things that helps make them much more real. Otherwise it just seems like stories - nice, possibly inspiring but they don't always go very deep for me. I think that carrying our gear across the island and camping out in the rain helped me to understand the type of thing that the monks might have gone through when they were missionaries over a thousand years ago. I suspect they wouldn't have had a squashed in old minibus or tents - so all in all I suspect we did better.

1500 miles later, 3 more festivals and a few capes made out of black bags (for my 2 year old festival team) and we made it back home. Just in time for a trip to Albania....

Day 3

2009-07-26T23:57:00.002+01:00

My beard progresses slowly but surely.

We have run 2 festivals so far with a third tomorrow. Today it rained a fair bit during our festival in Clayton Brook which always makes things interesting - particularly when you're playing water-balloon volleyball.

Tomorrow we run a second festival in the same place as the one today before heading off to Scotland. I suspect that by the time we drive to the place we're staying it will be time to get up and drive on to the island of Iona where we begin the 'pilgrimage' part of our pilgrimage. We'll check out the church and community there and hear more about the lives of the Celtic Christians and how they brought faith, education and social reform to Ireland and Scotland.

Today saw a few hundred people come to our festival. Not bad going really - two local churches just engaged with a few hundred people from their community for around 3 hours. Probably many will engage again tomorrow for another 3 or 4 hours and some will volunteer to help make their community a better place. All of them will walk another step in their journey with God whether they realise He journeys or not.

I directed the festival today which basically means I told the MC what to say and oversaw the running of the central games program - an interactive community building series of games and activities for the 3 hours. Hard to describe easily but they basically form the heart, soul and values of the entire festival. If the whole thing does it's job well people relax, start to engage together in a healthy way and love being with one another. They start to like who they are, particularly who they are together and begin in some way to hear the still small voice God's Spirit in their own human spirit. The MC, team, activities and central games become the mirror and values of that move - from an unknowing and wary hostility to a welcoming hospitality.

Generally speaking: job well done. The local team and the two churches were great.

Quotes for the last two days:

Guy: you do know that's illegal don't you? Tim: oh really? Well I'll stop doing it once I've finished.
Tim: Can you drive my car over to Novlette whilst I drive Andy's? Guy: Not really no. I can't drive. Tim: That's ok - the keys are in the ignition.
Whilst booking a flight (a process that took no small amount of time and several attempts at getting the credit card number right over skype) somebody to somebody else: you do know that you have a lousy member don't you? [I think they meant memory].

I've now been driving twice in 24 hours - not bad since I can't drive. Once was 4 wheel off-road driving. It was closely followed by an incident at the Burger King drive through when we may have accidentally neglected to use the road whilst leaving the BK premises.

Sleep this pilgrimge seems to be optional.

The British Pilgrimage

2009-07-24T22:47:00.003+01:00

Day 1

And so it begins......

A ten day Pilgrimage around Britain. Some good ideas behind it really - that it would help British people rediscover the best parts of our nation's heritage, be an inspiration/challenge to those that come and others they hang out with to follow God & make a difference, and a chance to take people (specifically young people) out of their natural environment to discover more of who they really are. Sometimes it's hard being at home whilst trying to figure that out - we tend to keep each other trapped in expectations, our own immovable world view and patterns of (often unhealthy) behaviour. Not a bad plan then. They say that a tourist passes through the land whilst a pilgrim lets the land pass through them.

Cliche it may be but the theory is sound. We either filter new experiences and growth through who we already are and just reinforce something that already exists, or let ourselves be impacted, affected and ultimately recreated by the journey we take. In this particular case: a journey with 11-ish others (a bizarrely biblical number quite by chance) around Britain visiting places and lives of Christian significance and takign part in local mission. And whilst the places we're visiting might not be the ones you'd necessarily expect you'll understand why cathedrals and exciting or famous places aren't on the list. We are, after all, more interested in places and people who have actually done something. Faith without action as the book of James tells us, is dead. In fact: it's worth than dead. It's a joke and a slap in the face of what God came to do for us and calls us to. Which is why we spend half of our time being involved with local mission.

You can, after all then, keep your Christian excitement and hype. People live in the day to day real world.

My real world currently feels like someone is setting off depth charges with little regard for the repurcussions. More immediately distressing is the fact that I appear to have forgotten my razor and toothbrush and at 11:14 on a Friday evening I'm very hungry. Whilst I may end up spiritually fed over the next 10 days my slightly dodgy stomach (endoscopy to follow pilgrimage) tells me that I may not be so well physically fed or relaxed. Not to mention the prospect of beginning to look like a wannabe member of a Bee Gees tribute band.

Today's best quote: "I've never had so much gaelic accordian" - narrowly followed by Andy Prosser's "proof that big isn't necessarily always better"

Health?! - I'd rather be driving...

2009-05-15T09:47:00.003+01:00

Actually it turns out there is a pedometre on my phone which has been quite useful in measuring how healthy I am. Turns out: not very.

Neither the ninjas, the bank job nor the komodo dragons have materialised either but I live in hope.

Other than that I have decided not to go to South Africa (just in case anyone was wondering) and the Lord has started talking to me over the past couple of weeks abotu various things. That's been quite nice.

And then I wondered: maybe it's not that he's talking more, maybe it's that I'm listening more? And then I thought: but really, I haven't been listening more. So how does that work?! The message paraphrase of the bible notes the sermon on the mount as saying something like: you're blessed (put right) when you're at the end of your rope - because then there's more room for God to move. I suspect you could paraphrase it more in that the Lord might sometimes be saying: get out of the way and let me do it.

I occasionally have to look after or train young people to do things - it's always a slow and painful process. Often I want to just be like: get out of the way and let me do it. Normally I wouldn't - but sometimes it's the right thing to do. I suspect that God knows when it's the right thing to do. And after all - he is a little more skilled than I am.

All in all, having God's spirit within me saying: "get out of the way old life and let me do it" might turn out to be a good thing. After all. The world could use another does of the heavenly life.

The new health drive

2009-04-22T15:58:00.004+01:00

And so it begins. A new attempt at getting fit and my life a little more balanced. Right now I'm not sure that I'm looking after myself so well - at least across the board with the whole body, soul, spirit thing anyway.

From now on I shall be keeping up to date with my health blog: trying to eat more healthily, exercise, get some mental/spiritual time in and attempt to balance my resources. By which I mostly currently mean money, but I'm sure will turn out to be more than mony in the long run. Mind you since right now the bank are cross with me for not having enough money to cover the bills that people tried to take out of my account it does seem that moolah is a fairly pertinent place to start though.

Task number one: obtain income.

Possible solutions: sell body parts on black market, form band and become high-grossing rock star, rob bank, trouble shoot fr extremely high powered business executives, secretly convince everyone who meets me to give me large sum of cash, patent some form of incredible gadetry, get job.

Possible obstacles: necessity for body parts, lack of musical talent or business know-how, lack of balaclava, guilt at stealing money from friends, slightly bizarre current job schedule.

Task number two: clear up nonsense surrounding current study.

Possible solutions: send horde of rampaging komodo dragons to HQ of training organisation, hire ninjas to kill all training executives, hire MI6 agents to convince training executives to give me my diploma right now, wait until July for third attempt at graduation, decide that having a piece of paper to say that I finished isn't really all that important.

Possible obstacles: dragons are notoriously hard to train (also: current lack of dragons), ninjas don't exist (and if they did you wouldn't know about them anyway so you couldn't get in touch with them - but the A-team might be possible), MI6 probaly has some kind of conscience about performing operations for personal gain - especially on commonwealth soil, paper is nice - especially since I worked my ass off to get it.

Task three: get fit

Possible solution: exercise, exchange bodies with someone who is already fit using futuristic consciousness transferral device, brew potion that magically alters genetic make-up of body to be inherently faster and stronger than the average black panther (think million dollar man or 5th element [but male]).

Possible obstacles: laziness, lack of suitably fit other body, no cauldren.

The quest continues....

2009-03-17T18:10:00.003Z

A day off

Almost nothing of significance to report except that I couldn't sleep last night so my day off wasn't as good as I'd hoped. This could be due to an almost overwhelming amount of stress I realise at some point. so I sit down to journal and think armed with a cup of hot ribena and a pen. Surely this will help.

I discover the first snag in the plan when my pen fails after approximately 10 words. And I think - oh come on! Sighing to myself I put my drink down on the floor, stand up and start to cross the room to obtain a new pen. And then it happens. A 'chink' and a 'splash' sound. And I think: oh shit.

Turning, I discover my new and very much beloved phone practising it's diving techniques in my hot ribena. Impressive aiming I think. Briefly. Ever so briefly. Before swearing profusly.

A short trip to the 3 store later (having gone through the process of going: oh I'll call them to see if they fix your phone for you....oh....) confirms that they will not fix it for you. No worries though, they assure me. You can just buy a new pay as you go and put the sim in it. At 166 quid for my model I politely decline (it was a hard choice between that or ramming my now useless hunk of plastic down their purple-shirted throats, but it wasn't their fault after all).

I get the bus home thinking: I might need to seriously re-evaluate my life right about now.

2008-11-05T21:32:00.001Z

The problem with lies is that they sound so much like the truth.

being evil

2008-09-26T17:40:00.004+01:00

Quantum:
1. quantity or amount.
2. a particular amount.
3. a share or portion.
4. a large quantity; bulk.
5. stuff about physics.
6. sudden and significant.

Solace:
alleviation or comfort.

Apparently (according to swatch anyway and they ought to know) I am some dude from the new Bond film. Like so:

You combine many different characteristics and you always want it all: absolute power and control. You neutralise anyone who gets in your way, using your many and varied contacts.

that is all.

2008-08-23T21:18:00.002+01:00

Lacking any kind of good title or serious news to report allow me just to say that this week has been slightly frustrating. For example:

"Hello mr bus driver, return to town please" "You want to go to town? Really?! you should have gotten that bus that just went past on the other side of the road going in the opposite direction. The bus route has changed and this is the looooooooooong way round. Still, by the time you wait half an hour for the next one you might as well sit on this one anyway".

"Phlip did I leave my folder with my work schedule in it at home?" "yes." "crap." "You also left some other things including your passport - by the way aren't you flying to Australia quite soon?" "yes."

"I've just been looking for my toothbrush - did I leave that there too?" "Yes."

"I'll just find the scripts that I printed out. Wait, I can't find them. I'll get my laptop and do it again. Wait, my laptop wont turn on. [6 hours later] Oh there it goes - I'll just do half an hours editing in photoshop. Oh. It just crashed again moments before I finished."

Funny how the little things are quite irritating (mind you so are the 'big' things). I'm also thinking of going to Australia for a few months. Some call it running away.

2008-08-14T09:51:00.004+01:00

The evidence mounts

A day much like any other day. Birds sing in the trees, lambs gently bleat in the paddock outside unaware of the fate that will befall them in the not too distant future, chickens peck at the door of the coup waiting to be let out. An alarm clock sounds: rousing one innocent and harmless boy from his dreams of things probably best left unmentioned.

Walking to the kitchen he has a bowl of cereal and puts the kettle on the stove to boil. As the cereal bowl empties and the water approaches boilding point 2 creatures watch from the shadows - calculating the precise moment to strike a deadly blow. Unaware of the horror that watches from the shadows our hero decides that some toast and a cup of tea might be a nice thing. In the shadows an ancient and cunning evil stirs.....the moment approaches.....

Walking to the fridge he savours the the feel of the packaging on the recently bought bread before reaching for the milk and turning round to pour hot water in the waiting mug. Seconds tick by. Milk is poured and returned then returned to the open fridge.......

Wakefulness knocks at the door of the morning routine and says: didn't you put the bread in the fridge? A blurred memory of last night suggests that yes - this is in fact correct. So where precisely, wakefulness asks, is the bread?

Looking again the fridge is suspiciously empty.

I turn to the shadows. They are also suspiciously empty.

Realisation dawns. I utter the words: oh you bastards.

I find my flip-flops and heedless of the lack of clothing I currently employ run from the house. In the furthest corners of the garden, around the side of the barn I find 2 dogs - one of whom has my loaf of bread in his mouth. At least - he has half a mangled loaf of bread that I assume is most likely mine, unless he's suddenly learnt to bake overnight. Unlikely given the lack of opposable thumbs.

I tell said dog exactly what I think and put together this poster so that no others will fall into the same trap I have:

2008-08-04T13:33:00.008+01:00

The curious incident of the poo in the day time

As happens on many occasions I came home late the other night. The house was exactly as I had left it: chickens in the chicken run, dogs shut up in the extension area thing, sheep in the pen and not a mouse was stirring. Or so I thought.

Having let myself in and fed the dogs I walked to the bathroom and out of the corner of my peripheral vision caught sight of a strange brown package on the floor. Upon closer inspection it turned out to be poo. "That's funny" I thought to myself. As well as a few other things. My eyes travel up and notice another poo - probably from the same animal my detective skills inform me. At this point I briefly consider whether I might have poo-ed on the floor by accident in my sleep, and whether a foray into Wikipedia to find out about poo analysis might reveal the nature of the guilty person but decide that I'm really not that interested. My eyes travel further.....

And I notice a third poo. Of a distinctly different nature. Not just slightly different but totally and thoroughly different - like the difference between a jacket potatoe and a bowl of rice pudding for example. "That's funny" I think to myself. As well as a few other things.

A sane voice in my head says: there are 2 dogs and they probably just snuck past you whilst you weren't looking and for some inexplicable reason left you some poo on the floor.

A less sane voice says: I wonder if some kind of other animal has gotten into the house and done that? It's quickly followed by a paranoid voice that wonders if Oxfordshire has a new serial killer that leaves poo as their trademark before dispatching their victims. Suddenly the rabbit warren that is the house I'm staying in becomes a much more frightening place as visions of "the killer poo-er", most feared person since jack the ripper walked London's streets fill my mind.

A bucket & several pieces of kitchen towel later and the poo is gone (except for the more liquid aspects which were a tell tale clue that the poo was fresh, ergo the culprit must still be in the house). Unable to contain my paranoia any longer I find a conveniently placed hockey stick and camping lantern and sweep the lower floor of the house. Thus armed and looking like a bizarre & modern-art version of 'The Light of the world' I begin rushing through doors prepared to brain the killer poo-er with a child's hockey stick until I ascertain that the ground floor is 'clean'. At least, it's clean of other human presence.

Only the upstairs remains. There are 2 ways up stairs so I boobytrap one of them and use the other. Fortunately each step screaches with the agony of old wood - thus alerting my unknown assailant to my every move. At the top of the stairs there are 3 ways to turn. I decide that between my cleverly devised boobytrap, the noise of the stairs & the difficulty of watching in 3 directions at once I might as well just go to sleep. A short but coincidentally timed phone conversation later in which a friend assures me that yes, there probably is someone else in the house with me, I call the whole adventure quits. But not before I find some way to barracade the door to my room.

The mystery is more satisfactorily solved when I notice that one of the dogs seems to eat a lot of grass and I remember that the poo had been full of what looked like either grass or thread. I further remember that cows need some strange amount of stomachs to process grass and that humans can't do it anymore (something to do with the appendix I think) so probably it was a dog.

The bowl-of-rice-pudding poo however, remains a mystery.

2008-07-25T10:48:00.002+01:00

A dog's breakfast

Meaning either: a complete mess, or the thing that a dog has for breakfast. Sadly both things applied to the doughnut I bought for my own breakfast this morning after an extremely wet & enthusiatic golden retriever nearly pushed me off a bridge and then destroyed my bag in order to get to the doughnut inside it. Needless to say the half eaten, wet & covered in dog hair thing that I rescued was inedible. The dog's owner looked quite embarassed about the whole thing but I couldn't find it in my heart to be angry - just mildly annoyed and amused.

The parallel with this week didn't escape me. Since having a really nice weekend I somehow seem to have ended up with a week that's involved a one way trip to chaos & destruction. I have no plan of escape currently, only a glimmering hope that somehow the lord might have some kind of plan. If he doesn't then I could be in trouble. I'm beginning to wonder if the lesson might be: there's a way to be ok in the middle of chaos that's to do with Me - you don't have to control chaos in order to be 'ok'. I think that's worth checking out.

2008-03-11T10:19:00.002Z

Walk it off....

I think that I've noticed that I often write my blog when I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed or miserable - when I'm finding it hard to get through life and remain sane. It's not a thing I tend to find that easy anyway, frankly I think that I need some form of daily miracle just to make me a vaguely normal person. Maybe that's what Grace is for.

In either case I'm resolving to write when I'm feeling happy instead of when I need to vent the craziness inside. It's a bit sad to think that all people tend to get of me is when I'm not doing so well.....it's just backwards.

This weekend we had a fairly full-on time of work with a breakout on Saturday and then a training course and youth service on Sunday. Despite a certain amount of coldness and a lot of being not as prepared as I should have been I appear to have made it through. My talks went well (at least I think they did) contrasting the work of the lord almighty with the film Zorro (the old one, not the new one of course); and the only scars that I bear appear to be an incredible inner thigh/groin strain from the bucking bronco that we hired. On the upside I understand why cowboys walk like they do and have enjoyed a few days of accidentally being John wayne.

I also stumbled across the following video on youtube that I think is quite funny:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xn2V_43rmPk

2008-03-06T16:59:00.002Z

Slowly going insane.....

Today I have been trying to work on preparing a breakout for, let's just say, approximately 2 days time.

Most of me is currently a bit miffed about this - I feel underskilled and lost at sea with a whole load of other things just lurking in wait, things that also need to be done too. As I look around me today I see a group of friends doing the best they know how to make their way through life and make just a small (if not a big) difference in the lives of the surounding communities. Some of them live (technically speaking) below the poverty line. I rarely hear them complain or grumble.

And at the same time that the bbc is reporting on the guilty verdict for a man now convicted of 3 murders, a report from a young man who has been abused by a foster mother and the UN warnings concerning inflation prices for food; yahoo reminds me that I can easily catch up on the story so far of 'Lost' with a handy 8 minute video, that a superdog is rumoured to be favourite for winning crufts and that apparently some football manager has said he will kill Chelsea. Figuratively speaking I'm sure.

Then take me - this week I've spent a certain amount of time considering what name I should put on my e-mail signature so that peopel will be able to identify who I am and what I do. I decided on Media Department Executive first but then changed my mind to go for Executive Media Officer - because the acronym is EMO. I can feel myself whinging about the fact that life is unstable and unsettled, that I feel busy & stressed, that I want to be outside more doing something significant or just fun.

Sometimes I wish I could get a little bit of perspective.

2008-02-25T23:20:00.004Z

From Ox to Oz (bypassing 'Y') & back again....

Allow me to say up front that I dislike beginnings - they're tricky things. A good beginning is probably not to be underestimated and, I come to realise, not to be put off either. They have a tendency otherwise to stagnate and start developing their own miniature eco-systems from which all manner of strange and sometimes unpleasant things grow. Before you know it it is entirely possible that some kind of mutant dinosaur has flopped its way onto the shore and begun rampaging through the forest with a previously unheard of ferousity. Either way it probably means a whole lot of terrified, uniformed and irritated natives; and a too delayed messy beginning later on down the track. (Spot the tautology).

That being said: a bit has happened since last I wrote. Not least of which is the passing of nearly a year, a few marriages (none of them my own), one or two children being born (again - none of them my own), two trips to Australia and Christmas.

Most recently I've been in Australia for around 7 weeks working & taking a short holiday - and so I thought that whilst I was suffering from jet-lag and feeling like the inside of an unwashed sock I would begin. Again.

I'm not entirely sure how one begins again when a story has already begun - I imagine it's why people write sequels or cleverly sculpted plot twists. Unfortunately I have neither. In any case - this is a beginning. Coincidentally however it's also an end.

2007-04-12T16:07:00.000+01:00

Of easter weekends and my friend Zac

Recently I have noticed several things about myself, not many of them are hugely interesting to the average person but over the weekend I did come up with a marvellous spoonerism. They tend to happen when I am totally distracted, overly-excited, or ridiculously tired. The weekend involved the latter as Zac and I stayed up from Saturday morning, through Saturday night at an all night easter-prayer vigil thing; did church Sunday morning (where everyone seemed far too enthusiastic I thought - it was quite beyond me how everyone didn't just want to go for a nice lie down and a bit of peace and quiet); Sunday lunch with some friends and then back to Oxford for sleep around 6 o clock.

Since we appeared to be on a roll with doing stupid and not well-thought out things no eyelids were batted at the fact that the car was so full that oxygen (nevermind space) was a premium. I imagine it's what living in a Japanese box must be like. Nevertheless armed with a guitar (patronised for my choice of brand by a clearly insane Scotsman) and more toast than you could shake a stick at - we tried, but couldn't find a stick - the evening began.....

My devotion upon the topic of 'worship' seemed to be going well. The audience were enthralled by my story of how all of the chewing gum had fallen out of the packet in my bag, thus rendering me with breath like that of the average vulture; and from there I was on a roll with a tenuous link from The Police to St Paul then contrasting the creator of the universe with the average date (make sure you take chewing gum). Fortunately my ineptitude was excused and one singing lesson later (during which it turned out that my cold had sneakily turned my voice from that of an angel to the sonic equivalent of a meat tenderiser to the face) only my lack of playing ability stood between me and international rock acclaim.
Fortunately Christians are always nice and so everyone said how much they enjoyed it all.

So it was that approximately 11 hours later as we did the last clearing up and marvelled at the lack of stench left behind from 19 teenagers crammed overnight into too small a space (miracles do happen) that I came across this weekend's spoonerism. Observing the water bottle left upon the table Zac said: is that yours?
I reply: no, I thought it was yours. Shall I bin it?
Zac: no I'll take it, it could be useful. [For those interested in such things, it did indeed come in handy on the drive later - another story to be sure]
Me: True. The only problem that you don't really want to share spit with a load of teenagers.
Zac: *strange look precedes laughter*
Me: *review last sentence and realise that I had in fact pronounced that on a youth prayer night you really wouldn't want to spare shit with a load of teenagers* I think that what I meant was...

Not the most exciting thing that has ever happened in my life, but a charming story of the accidental misuse of the english language I thought. It now joins my previous assertion whilst in Australia that it would not necessaily be pleasant to 'share a swag' as one of my favourite miscommunications.

By Wednesday I had recovered - just in time to find three quite attractive girls knocking on my door and offering me a kitten who has been subsequently named 'Sir Reginald the Great'. Odd but not necessarily unpleasant.

Peace out.

2007-03-28T11:12:00.000+01:00

Just another day at the office.....

I was going to begin this post by saying that my transition back into the UK has (although lacking in communication) been relatively smooth and pleasant. But the other day someone told me that I seem to attract and magnify crisis and that perhaps I should think about whether I set myself up to fail. Of course that's completely nonsense as a short survey of any area of my life will reveal.

Take the last two weeks for example:

Discover on Monday that I have royally pissed someone off who now is undertaking a process of attempting to remove my extremities and feed them to ill tempered badgers. Check.
Travel across Oxfordshire to attend totally frustrating staff meeting Tuesday morning, PIT session and then return to Oxford in time to head off for the ever promising youth event retreat. Check.
Arrive at retreat centre after getting lost due to directions being accurate only for someone travelling from the opposite compass direction and discover that despite being called 'The Abbey', said retreat centre is in fact a multi-faith organic vegan community with no hot water. Forget to turn on storage heater in my room and wake up to find penguins enjoying the temperature, decline a gracious offer of joining silent meditation (holding hands whilst sat in a circle), burst into someone else's meeting because 'I wanted to know what was behind this door', discover that something in the vegan food has set off my allergy and therefore have massively painful stomach cramps. Check.
Attend 3 dysfunctional meetings and receive no consolation from the post meeting trip to the pub due to student restrictions upon the consumption of alcohol (who wrote that stupid rule anyway?!). Check.
Miss meeting with church leader due to sickness, achieve approximately nothing for the rest of the week except to lose my phone, mp3 player, laptop, home internet connection and possibly sanity.
Take Saturday off to recover. By which I mean - attend youth cafe training day and try to lecture on team leadership whilst feeling sick. Check.
Lose watch.
Reclaim most of said items, suffer an entirely unproductive and very very weird Monday at the office (during which the temperature drops to approximately absolute zero). Go home and curl into a ball. Check.
Finally give in to my body and take Tuesday morning and Wednesday off. Actually do more in my day off than I probably have in the past week - very strange.
Thursday: Open my morning mail to find that my bank have very kindly closed my account for me (I don't recall asking them to do that but it's always possible....) Talk to a very kind lady who says that I owe them the remainder of the balance of my student loan (oh dear); but fortunately unlike most financial people she has not had her heart removed with a spoon and replaced with a chrome alternative so she's not really worried (hurray). Net result: no bank account, possibly black listed? Need to find a regular job to earn money/a multimillionaire to sponsor Fusion/lots of not quite multimillionaires to support my sponging lifestyle. Decide that a job is probably my most pro-active option (though door knocking is always a fall-back). Check.
Take weekend off, go home, obtain guitar that I have wanted for the last 4 & 1/2 years and was my christmas present from my family (had to be shipped from Puerto Rica - best not to ask). Much joy ensues.
Recover watch.

And so this week begins.

Now call me crazy but that all sounds quite normal to me. At least this week has been pretty good so far.

As we often used to say back in the grantham pub: gotta love the cp'n!

2007-02-05T13:13:00.000Z

Beginnings are hard. Maybe because they seem to involve ends in one way or another and I often want to leave a part of me in what was before, perhaps because new things are a bit scary.
But in either case I find myself at a new beginning and in a way am not really sure of what I am like anymore. It could almost be anything. I think that this is part of the mystery of forgiveness.

Like the title suggests I have left that most curious village in Tasmania to return to England: the land of snow-drops, angel cake and the queen. And a place that I think I like a lot more having been away for a while.

Many people who I speak to are a little confused by what I have been doing, what I am doing, why I'm doing it, and whether or not I've been living in something like a nazi-camp run by a strange set of cultish Christians. As for this last point of interest I can assure you that any explanation I give will not adequately explain what the Po was like.
It is true that we were all fitted with GPS tracking chips that activate once you cross out of the village boundaries; it is true that no students were allowed to drink any alcohol; and it is not true that the Po is built on the site of an ancient tribe who worshipped a giant squirrel. (As ever 1 of the above 3 statements is false)

The last 12 months have probably been the most intense of my life, and to conceed a point may well turn out to be one of the more significant as well. To say that they were easy or simple would be a total lie, to say that they were completely awful would also be a lie. If nothing else perhaps the experience has begun to show me something of the cost of looking after other people, particularly some of the people who really need it. And judging by the standards of the stories that other workers occasionally shared I had a pretty tame and easy ride.

The best way to understand what I have been doing is to sit down for a long time (a very long time because my brain is a fairly confusing place) and listen. But the basic way is that I've been youthworking and studying in what felt like an almost 24/7 capacity - which is quite challenging to one's integrity. Now that I'm back in England I'm technically an overseas student in Australia on placement in England. By title I suppose I'm a student or youthworker; Practically I think I might be a missionary - I don't know who validates such a claim so I hold it tentatively but with an amount of pride and joy. I'm looking forwards to living by faith and waiting to see what each day brings in Fusion's work here.

For the first time in a while I think that I'm approaching things wondering if they could be fun and what the possibilities are. Tomorrow I'm sure that I'll have some moments when I will wonder what on earth I am doing and why I'm here, but at least that seems pretty par for the course. It's nice to know that I'm not alone in some things.

And on the whole: it's nice to be back.