February
Revd Alastair writes…...
Dear friends,
Some thoughts for this coming Lent season. It occurred to me recently that with all that time in the desert our Lord cannot have been constantly praying – everyone needs a break, even just for ten minutes!
So, if you are stuck for a Lenten intention this year, how about this:
Leave a little space for yourself each day.
You may think you have a little quality time each day for yourself but I bet you don’t. You see, even in our time alone we spend so much of it worrying about others, caring for our family, friends and loved ones (and dog!), that there is very little left over entirely for ourselves. What I am proposing isn’t revolutionary or difficult or extreme. In fact it’s pretty easy. Just leave a little space for yourself each day. Perhaps only ten minutes devoted entirely to yourself. Selfish? Absolutely. Of course it is and justifiably so. You need that time to regenerate, renew, invigorate yourself.
So what are you going to do with that time? Answer: absolutely nothing. And I do mean nothing. This isn’t time for lying in the bath, reading the newspapers, or sleeping. This is a little space for you, a breather, a time to sit still and do absolutely nothing. Just breathe. I find ten minutes sitting in the garden just breathing is a fantastic boost a couple of times a day. I sit there, not thinking, not doing, not worrying, just being, while I appreciate the pleasure of being alive.
I first found this out as a teenager. I found it invaluable as a way of purging myself of angst and worries. I now pass it on to my students at school. My mother used to call out to me, `What are you doing?’ To which the reply was inevitably, `Nothing’. And she would always reply, `Well come in here and I’ll find you something to do.’ Well, we are human beings, not human doings! She also used to say: `You’ll never amount to anything by having your head stuck in a book.’ And the one I loved the most: `No one needs to think as much as you do.’ How do you answer that?
I find time spent doing nothing really important and as soon as I complicate it, it loses something. If I add a cup of coffee to my solitude, then it’s a coffee break and not a space just for me. If I listen to music, then it’s a music break. If I have a companion with me and I chat, then it’s a social occasion. If I read the papers, then I have moved away entirely from the concept of a little space for me. Keep it simple. Keep it bare. Keep it pure.
Alastair