Dear Harry,
I'm happy to be opening the door to reconnection with fellow bloggers after a long absence. You never knew about blogs and bloggers and the blogosphere, of course, because you died before the Internet was much more than a gleam in the eye of those who could predict the future. But it's a marvelous invention, allowing a writer like myself to connect with anyone, anywhere in the world. Just imagine!
I realize I have missed the virtual companionship that I managed to build with my earlier blogs. I have a friend who created this idea of "sacred lifeboats"--micro-communities that can provide refuge from the craziness of the contemporary world. Think of them, from your own long experience as an English country village priest, as little congregations. I have a few of them--a group of artists that meets monthly, now finally again in person at our house; a meditation group that I host weekly on Zoom and another that has just started to meet in person again on Sundays in Laguna Beach; a group of older men from throughout the country who meet once a month on zoom to share thoughts and feelings about "conscious aging."
These are quite literally life-savers for me--which is why sacred lifeboats is a good name for them. Each one of them gives me a place to feel "at home." It is easy to get lost at sea these days. I woke this morning at 4 AM and could not get back to sleep, not because any particular thing was worrying me, but because I was (again!) feeling adrift, unmoored in the vastness of the... well, the universe. My psyche, my inner consciousness was formed in the context of those villages where we lived, where everyone knew everyone and everyone had a place where they were recognized and belonged.
There was safety in that. Oh, sure there were the quarrels and hurt feelings, but largely it was a cohesive community. There was a largely agreed-upon set of values, a course of events than ran smoothly from week to week and month to month and year to year. But that is pretty much lost in the world that I inhabit in my daily life today, and I have to say I miss it.
So climb aboard the lifeboat with me, Harry! You'll enjoy the ride!
With love, Peter
Did I say welcome bay yesterday? My words have begun to fade away, but I will enjoy yours.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mage!
DeleteThank yu for visiting my blog and leaving a comment, Peter. I spent a few years caring for my parents who lived in a village just outside Cambridge and during that time I began to appreciate the positive value of village gossip. When my father died there was a steady stream of visits from my mother's friends. When I had to return to work it was a great comfort to know that there was a kind of unofficial rota of village people visiting her every day.
ReplyDeleteGood to hear from you, John. I'm wondering where in Hertfordshire you are? My father had parishes there and in Bedfordshire both (we had Bletchley girls living with us in the Rectory during the war). My older son and his family now live in Harpenden. Cheers, Peter
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