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.

2022 Word of the Year - Accordance

My word for 2021 has been 'presence'. This word, and my reflections upon it, have served me well throughout the year. I have tried to be more present in different aspects of life which, in turn, have enabled me to be more available. I have also reflected on my own gift of presence which I still struggle to fully comprehend, but I end the year more aware and able to celebrate it.

Those of you who have read previous years' word of the year posts know the word is not always easily  forthcoming. This year is different. This word came to me over a week ago and has not left me alone. It is also a word I would have never have imagined myself choosing. The word 'accordance' seems quite legalistic and judgmental to me. I imagine a judge declaring that someone has not lived in accordance with the law, or some pious person informing me I haven't quite lived up to the expected standard. Although I am not a particularly rebellious person, I have spent the last few years attempting to fight the perceived need to conform and keep the peace. So, this word has come as a surprise.

Looking into the etymology of the word 'accord' has helped me understand its importance in my life at this point. The Old French origins, dating back to the twelfth century, are about agreement and harmony. It is however, the Vulgar Latin origins that ring true: to be of one heart or to bring heart to heart. For me, this is about integrity. Over the last decade I have spent a lot of time discovering my true self - the me I was before I was. While living life in accordance with your true self should be the most natural thing in the world, I find that the expectations of our society convince us to be something else. The lure of success, wealth, admiration and a myriad of other things constantly divert me away from my centre and stability. 

So, in 2022, I want to live in accordance to the heart of my life that I know to be real. I want to bring the heart of my living in line with the heart of my life more and more. But to be clear - I am not going to do this in a legalistic manner. I know I will stuff up. I know there will be times when I get caught up in what the world expects of me. But, in all my imperfection, if I can come to the end of 2022 and say I gave it a good shot I will be content. To live in accordance with my true self, who I was created to be, takes a lifetime of humility and unlearning. 2022 will be just a small step along the way.