2026 Word of the Year - Clearing

 On choosing my 2025 word of the year - home- I thought I possibly might be writing this new year blog from our new home in the hills of Perth. Instead we continue to learn patience and hope the building will commence in the next week.In the last month we have walked a fine line between making our block compliant to bush fire safety rules and maintaining the beautiful trees. This has involved some intentional clearing. Aspects of this have been easy as we removed weedy trees that have become invasive in this area. Other trees have been difficult to remove, but essential for obtaining a building permit. As we have been clearing, we remind ourselves that we are making room for the home we dream of living in and plant new native trees to replace them a little further from the house zone.

In the last few days, I have been clearing out my home office. I have lever-arch files full of resources I haven't looked at in years and enough half-used tea lights to hold a number of Taize services. A clear out is well overdue! This has been spurred on by the fact that I am commencing a new position today. Today marks the transition from working for the Uniting Church in Western Australia to beginning my role as Director of Pastoral Theology and Ministry Studies with Uniting College for Leadership and Theology in Adelaide. My home office will be getting a lot of use in between trips to Adelaide and I need it to be uncluttered and have space for new books related to the topics I will be teaching. 

As I have been sifting through the many files I have become aware of the many things I have held on to - not only physically but also emotionally and spiritually. I have been surprised at how easily I have let go of  years of orders of service, sermons, liturgies, notes from workshops, thank you cards - the list goes on. As expected, there has been the occasional item that I have decided is worthy of keeping and some of the material is on my computer. However, there is something about this transition that has brought out the ruthless declutterer in me.

Although my choice of "clearing" as my word for 2026 is related to these two physical acts, there is a deeper more profound reason for my choice. Early last year, my supervisor gifted me a poem during one of our sessions. I say gifted because it remained with me throughout the year and continues to speak in profound ways despite its brevity.

Clearing

by Martha Postlethwaite

Do not try to save

the whole world

or do anything grandiose.

Instead, create

a clearing

in the dense forest

of your life

and wait there

patiently,

until the song

that is yours alone to sing

falls into your open cupped hands

and you recognize and greet it.

Only then will you know

how to give yourself

to this world,

so worthy of love.

The first three lines speak into my obsessive need to do, achieve, try the next new thing. The rest of the poem speaks of my desire for my life - to be more open, more patient, more attentive, more discerning. I particularly love the image of the song that is mine alone to sing falling into my open cupped hands. That is not going to happen as I rush from one thing to another. My desire in my new role, which I also expressed to the interviewing panel, is to have more space to go deeper - a deepening in relationships, a deepening in knowledge and research, a deepening in my own relationship with God, a deepening in my contemplative life of being present and attentive.

In the last couple of years I have been attempting to do this amongst the busyness of my roles. I have been trying to do build this "home" without clearing any trees. I have been trying to "work in an office" cluttered with things from the past. I now have an opportunity, as I commence a new role, to be intentional about how I want to live my life. I am fully aware this won't just happen with the flick of a switch. I have been working with my spiritual director and supervisor on this for the last six months. I am determined and I am nervous. It is all too easy to slip back into well worn patterns of seeking value and affirmation. And, just like the clearing of our block and my office, the clearing will undoubtedly be accompanied by some grief for the things I want to continue grasping.

2026 will be the year to create a clearing in the dense forest of my life. I know what I need to do and must face the resistance. For those close to me, hold me accountable in my clearing and help me not to be too eager to fill the space. May 2026 be a year when we witness each others songs falling into our open cupped hands.

Word for 2025 - Home

 I have spent the last few days revisiting the choices of my words of the year over the last decade. The first time I chose a word for the year was in 2012 - the word was Integrity. Although I was certain I had continued this tradition faithfully since, my journals indicate otherwise. There seem to be a few missing years early on. Some years my word of the year has been obvious, almost slapping me in the face. Other years have taken more time and more soul searching. As I look back - Courage, Cherish, Awaken, Behold, Horizon - I can recall what was happening for me in those years and the growth that occured for me. At times the word develops a life of it's own, emerging with life's circumstances. Who knew when I chose "Flow" for my 2024 word that we would buy a block of land where a winter creek flowed and filled us with so much anticipation and joy.

I have been resistant to my word for 2025. It seems too obvious - perhaps too literal. We will be building a house this year. I am very aware this is going to take a lot of our energy and time. It is exciting, daunting and grounding. Beside all the choices of colours, textures, tiles and taps, there is also an ongoing conversation about creating a space that is home for us. This takes us beyond choices of colour to how we create a place of peace, calm and welcome.

Although there is no building on our block at this stage, the space already feels like home. We are coming to know the creatures we share the space with, our friendly neighbours who take the time to say hello, and the homecoming feeling of that first deep breath when we get out of the car. There is something about this space, this place, that brings calm to both of us. We love tending this piece of land - pulling weeds, watering new plants and connecting with the various birds and critters. We cannot wait to truly call this place home and have our postal address match where our hearts reside.

My inability to ignore "home" as my word of 2025, however, comes from a different place. Throughout 2024 a deeper meaning of coming home has continued to disturb me. I have dreamt about trying to get home, things preventing me from returning home and renovating houses. In spiritual direction sessions it is not uncommon to end up talking about a sense of my spiritual home or where I feel I belong. Although I have done some work on this, it seems a perfect opportunity for the external journey to mirror the internal. While I am exploring different aspects of my new house and watching it become reality in the building, I will also pay attention to my inner home. There are so many questions to ponder: How does it feel to be "at home" in myself? To "come home" to God? What does this home look like? And who shares the space with me?

There are numerous cliches about home. Home is where the heart is. Make yourself at home. Home sweet home. And even one of my favourites - There's no place like home. But finding a spiritual home, a space where we are at peace and feel loved and known can be difficult. The irony, for me, is that I long for a place to be at home but find myself restless and wandering. 2025 is a year for me to be intentional in my desire to find a home - both an inner and outer journey.

Getting to know you

 Since we moved into our new house near the river, I have been taking walks in the morning or evening to get to know the area. I am getting to know some of the familiar sights: the neighbour who puts out a bowl of homegrown cucumbers for passersby to take, the driveway decorated with chalk drawings by local children, the people catching crabs in the river. Even some of the dogs taking their owners for walks are becoming recognizable. I am getting to know this place, its characteristics and the other creatures who call it home.

Last week, as I walked by the river, I found myself asking a strange question. Is this place starting to get to know me? Is it possible for a place to know you? Certainly the people and the other creatures have this capacity, but what about the trees, the river, the rocks? 

I took this photo of myself down by the river last week and, afterwards, realised the shirt I was wearing. I bought it at the Coldplay concert last year. The message, 'Everyone is an alien somewhere', had a certain appeal and truth that saw me wanting to add it to my wardrobe. I felt like an alien in this foreign place. No one had caused me to feel this way. It was simply unfamiliar and unknown.

I can't explain how, but I feel that this place is beginning to embrace me and include me as part of the ecosystem. Each day as I walk I feel less alien-like and more at home. It has been important for me to get to know this land and this waterway, but I feel the country is also getting to know me. As I take time and notice my surroundings, the paths I walk are inviting me to engage more. 

I have entered into a relationship with this place which is still young and fresh. I am no longer an alien in this place.

2024 Word of the Year - Flow

 In the last few weeks Guy and I have been in a time of great transition. In early December we packed up our home in Margaret River, helped our adult children move their belongings into their own spaces (they are staying in Margaret River), and moved to the big city, Perth. This brought with it many mixed feelings. I have not been sure about moving back to the city, the faster pace, the traffic, the noise... We are now living in a church house in a part of the city unfamiliar to both of us. We now live a short walk from Derbal Yerrigan (also known as the Swan River). 

When we last lived in Perth we were close to the beach, living near the river is quite foreign. What does it mean to live by the river? How will the river speak into our lives as we dwell so close? These questions came alive again in the last week as we took a few days holiday in Singapore. We have enjoyed visiting Singapore before, but on previous holidays always stayed in a popular shopping area. This time we tried a different area close to the river. I found walking, dining and sitting by the river delightful. Watching life pass by on the water or along its banks, staying alert for signs of wildllife, and observing how the shifting weather changed the moods of the river had the potential to while away many hours.

This experience and the location of our new home had me thinking about Mechthild of Magdeburg, one of the beguines I spent a few years studying in my PhD. Mechthild grew up by the River Elbe in Germany. She would have become accustomed to the seasons, currents and movements of the river. So much so, that when she talked of her relationship with God one of the prominent images is flowing. Living in the flow of God's love is integral to Mechthild's writing.

"Daily I offer you whatever I have:

Nothing but baseness.

And you, Lord, shall infuse me with your grace.

Then I can flow from your love."

Flowing Light of the Godhead, Book V, 20.

I spent a number of hours trying to grasp exactly what Mechthild meant by being in the flow of God. And so, now I have the opportunity to experience a little of what she saw. It is a different river, on a different continent, in a different century. Perhaps as I notice the ebb and flow, the stillness and the turmoil, the way people connect with the water, the way I come to know it more intimately - the river will be my teacher.

In the past my words of the year have had an associated goal, a longing for change or growth. This year is different. In adopting the word "flow" I am inviting myself into a year of discovery, a year of noticing, a year of being attentive to the country I live upon. I want to listen to the stories of First Nations Peoples of this land and its waters. I want to take time on the river's bank and not just speed past as many do along the adjacent freeway. There is no goal, just an invitation.

Happy new year to you all! 

2023 Word of the Year - Menuha

 As I embark on what will be a full 2023, I have been considering what my word for the year should be. There is much uncertainty leading into this new year as I take on a new role which will see me spending a lot more time away from home in Perth. There have been a few conversations about how this will work for our family and the need to ensure my work roles do not become all consuming.

As I have been preparing for this new role, I have been exploring the theme of "Sabbath" as an underpinning framework for the formation program I will be co-ordinating. This has led me to read to Abraham Joshua Heschel's "The Sabbath". This is a book I have had on my "to read" list for a while now. I read it in one sitting and consumed every word.

Heschel, a Jewish scholar, unveils the mystery of the Sabbath in poetic beauty. One section, in particular, caught my attention. Heschel explains the nuances of the term "menuha" and its significance to observing the Sabbath. I knew straight away that this needed to be my word of 2023. The Hebrew word "menuha" is usually translated as "rest". Heschel explains, however, that this rest is not simply the putting down of tools in order to recuperate before starting work again. The Sabbath, the menuha, itself completes the work of creation. In the first account of Creation in Genesis, the creative process is finished when menuha is formed on the seventh day. On all of the previous days God sees what is created and says it is good. On this seventh day God blesses the day and makes it holy.

This understanding opens up a new significance to finding times of rest amid the busyness of life. Without sabbath times, without menuha, my work will not be complete. There is an element of menuha that takes a step back and savours the work of the week before moving on. Menuha seems to take delight in what has been created. In the Jewish tradition this mystery is seeped with ritual and celebration. 

So, in 2023, as I make my way up and down the highway and juggle two roles, I hope to find my own ways to find menuha. It is unlikely that this will come in the form of a day each week, but I aim to find menuha times in the midst of life. Being intentional about creating menuha will somehow complete my work.

Happy New Year to you all!

The Elusive Dunnart

Since our beautiful dog, Ava, died in September last year, wildlife has returned to our garden. The birds linger longer. The king skinks and blue tongues slither about with more courage. The possums seem more active at night. And, unfortunately, we have had more mice and rats. There is one little critter, however, that avoids a positive identification. This little fella only appears as the light is fading and skips along the fence and branches in our front courtyard. He is fast. He is small. He could be a small rat or a rather fat mouse. But we suspect he is a dunnart. For those not familiar, a dunnart is an Australian, nocturnal, carnivorous marsupial. It looks rather mouse-like - especially when it hops briskly past the window at dusk. It has become somewhat of a family challenge to get more than a brief glimpse of this critter to positively identify its species. 

A few days ago, I had my best sighting yet. It was a rare evening where I was the only one home. There was none of the usual background noise associated with family time and getting a meal prepared. I sat in the lounge chair closest to the front courtyard. It was quiet. It was still. The elusive dunnart appeared and, unusually, lingered a while. It sat on the fence - waiting. I sat still trying to focus on the sillhouette. Definitely a dunnart - - I think! I was reluctant to move closer, knowing I would startle it and send it hopping. It was but a moment. A moment of stillness and clarity and wonder.

This experience reminded me of my desire to live a contemplative life. I know, from experience, that when I am able to be silent and still I am more likely to see the Divine with more clarity. There is still mystery and the unknown, but for a moment we meet. It is not something that can be captured or repeated, but it beckons us to return and be still again. It is very easy to become caught up in the busyness of life and completely miss the "dunnart" living amongst us. It is when we intentionally find the space to be still and wait that we may be surprised by the presence already in our midst.

I Can See Clearly Now

 Back in 2017 I attended a week long workshop with Pace e Bene on non-violence. Things were shifting and changing for me at the time. There were many great aspects to that week, but the one super significant thing I walked away with was a short story from Scripture. The five-verse narrative of Jesus healing a blind man in Mark 8 captured my attention. It became like an analogy for my current situation and has continued to speak to me since that day.

Last year, I facilitated a day retreat for the World Community for Christian Meditation in Perth. I based the day's reflections on this story and chose the theme 'I can see clearly now'. I approached the day with a little apprehension, as is often the case when I prepare for an unknown audience. The day was a delight!! About 50 people attended and participated with both contemplative intent and great enthusiasm. The day included discussion, personal reflection, immersing in the story through movement and even a bit of singing! We journeyed through the story together exploring what it means to see clearly in our faith life.

The WCCM group of Margaret River have asked me to repeat the day in the South West. The date is fast approaching and I am excited to see how a different group repsonds to this narrative. This retreat day will be held on the 5th of February at the Margaret River Uniting Church. You can see further details in the flyer below. If you would like to register you can click here. Why not make a weekend of it?! In case you haven't heard - Margaret River is a great place for a getaway.