Is that all there is?

No matter how much I try to spiritualise Advent and Christmas the results are always the same. When it finally arrives I heave a huge sigh of relief knowing that I have once again made the midway marker that divides the end of the silly season from the beginning of the Great New Zealand Melt Down. A sort of religious half way house where I can momentarily catch my breath before packing up the camping gear, squashing the family into the car and heading north - the only direction one can go by road if one lives in Wellington. That’s how Christmas has always been for me, but this year I found myself sympathising with the sentiments in Peggy Lee’s song, ‘Is that all there is?’[1] . . . ‘Is that all there is?’

Long before there was a Christmas day, the 25^th of December was the mid way marker between the dark days of winter, and the promises of spring. It was a mid winter feast the Romans called festus solis invicti, - the festival of the unconquered sun. When Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, the imagery of the invincible sun breaking forth out of winter darkness, and the invincible Son breaking forth out of the darkness of sin was obvious. The symbolism just seemed to shout it without the necessity for words to join up the dots. The festival of the unconquered sun became the festival of the unconquered Son, and nature underscored the theology it implied.

Personally I’d love to do Christmas like that, but the truth is I live in a capitalist culture, in the land of the ‘Upside-down Christmas’ [2]where the seasons give me a very different message. So, try as I might to exempt myself from the Santa Claus face of Christmas and immerse myself in purist liturgy, I can’t. Unless I spend Advent in a monastery, I’m probably doomed to be washed along with the commercial Christmas tide (no pun intended) and to repeat my previous Christmas failures again and again – like Ground Hog Day.

But if I can’t change the culture or the season, perhaps I can change the focus of the feast. What if, for example, instead of just celebrating the memory of the birth of a child, I celebrate the eternal gifts, which that child’s birth guarantees? Gifts of light (Lk2:10-14), gifts of joy (Jn1:3), and gifts of liberation (Mat 11:2-11), to name but a few.

Doing this, won’t change the commercial chaos and general holiday-mania from going on all around me, but focusing on what Jesus brought, rather than simply recalling his coming will change my perception of it. It will change my once a year ham and turkey feast into a 365 day a year feast. One that celebrates an ever-present lighting of my way, an ongoing sense of joy and gratitude for the good things God has given me, and a growing awareness of my personal responsibility to ensure that the society in which I live is just. A society where all can share equally in the good things Christ’s birth guarantees.

By all means let us enjoy and celebrate our ‘Upside-down Christmas’ holidays, but let’s not forget what we are celebrating, and that the message of Christmas extends well beyond the festive season.

For me, I need to remember that the commercialism surrounding Christmas is not all there is, just a pointer to the greater reality of the festival of the unconquered Son who brings light, joy and liberation, not just on Christmas day, but 365 day a year.

Yes Christmas is a feast, a feast of Light, a feast of love, and a feast of liberation for all.

1] Is that all there is – written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller Recorded by Peggy Lee August 1969.

[2] An Upside down Christmas, A New Zealand Christmas Carol by Shirley Murray

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Vivere

Most corporate entities these days have a mission statement.
Something that, like a motto, endeavours to capture and express the very 'heart' of the organisation.

As individuals we too sometimes need to focus on what our own mission statement would be if we had one. Personally I can think of no better one for myself than Vivere.

It is from the Italian verb, to Live, and in this song is translated as Dare to Live, and Pausinni's English translation of the complete song is electrifying and deeply challenging.

I offer it for myself, and for all who are facing personal darkness and difficult times in their life right now. ( you know who you are).

To each of you . . . . Vivere!



Click here for full lyrics in English and Italian

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Operation Canterbury?

Several posts ago I hinted that something was brewing for us, and I offered the cryptic clue, Operation Canterbury.

So was it a hint that I wanted a new Polo Shirt, did I intend moving to Kent or perhaps to read Chaucer again? No.

It does however have something to do with the Cathedral - though not much!

Canterbury Cathedral in Kent, as you may know, is the one of the oldest Christian structures in all of England and the Cathedral church of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the leader of the church of England in which I now hope to be ordained a priest in 2010.

Hence the code name, Operation Canterbury. Bit cryptic I suppose, but it's the best I could do.

Those of you who know me won't be surprised to learn that it's a step I've contemplated for over 25 years, but only now does it seem right to make it.

So, pray for us, or if it's your way, think good thoughts for us and wish me well.

Like the traveler in Robert Frosts poem, The Road not Taken I'm not sure exactly where it will all lead, but like the traveler I'm committed to it and:-

'I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference'.

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Carpe Diam

It used to be called ' Mid-Life Crisis.'

It occurred in your mid forties with the realization that the goals you set yourself in your 20's were overly ambitious, and that time was running out.

It's a social 'gloom & doom' phenomena that is all too familiar in western society.

However today sociologists are more likely to talk about second half of life issues and a quick search of Google will bring up over 27,000 occurrences of the term in less than 0.8 seconds.

But is this just a positive spin on a negative value, or is there something more to it?

Whilst I'm not a Greek scholar I believe the term dire crisis, which we use to imply impending doom is actually derived from two Greek words that more literally translate 'on the verge of change'.

. . . . . .Change, not doom!

For my generation (Boomers) the concept of second half of life presents a crossroad of enormous choice & opportunity.

A much better option than mid life crisis. It's a (last) chance to do the things you've always wanted to do, but never had time.

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Rounding the first bend!

Having traveled a lot I know that most of the energy in any journey goes in to the departure, and in to the arrival. The middle bit is relatively easy.

And today, I discovered that project Canterbury had successfully taken off.

We're off the ground,
we've rounded the first bend,

and I'm very excited.

So, what were those two clues again? '

My first is in Rome and also in Gnome.....

My second (and 9th) are in more and also in door

. . . . .so that's OR_ _ _ _ _ _ O _

It's got something to do with a change in direction

and, it's something I've thought about for a long time.

Mmmmm . . . what on earth could it be?

Stay tuned.

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Palm Sunday - a victory for the little people

Today is Palm Sunday. In the secular world perhaps the least publicised of any of the Christian feasts. It doesn't have the commercial pull of Christmas shopping or the warm fuzzies of the Good Friday Easter bunny, but the message of Palm Sunday is perhaps more profound than either.
Jesus enters war torn Jerusalem on a donkey. Pilot, the symbol of Roman authority and might would have pranced in along the same road on a white stallion accompanied by legions of troops and the cheering of the gathered crowds. The comparison presents a satire playing off humility and individual weakness against power and corporate strength. Two thousand years later Jerusalem is still war torn, the Roman empire has vanished into the pages of history but, Jesus lives.

The lesson of Palm Sunday is the message of David & Goliath: that we, the little people, week and powerless as we seem, have the ability through that weakness, like Jesus, to effect enormous change on the world around us. More even than the Goliath oil barons and coprorate giants!

Yea, the little people!

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Looking outside the square

Today they arrived.

When I set up the tree and placed the crib beneath it, they were on top of the window sill, on the other side of the room.

Day by day, through the 12 nights of Christmas, the 'Kings' journeyed across my living room till this morning (January 6th) when they reached their destination.

The stable in Bethlehem

Each year, as we approach the Christmas season, our preparations include revisiting the events surrounding the birth of Our Lord. Bethlehem, the shepherds, and the angels are familiar to us all. But not much is generally known about the mysterious "Magi" who came to worship the infant Jesus.

By tradition we refer to them as 'Wize Men from the East' or 'The Three Kings', though general opinion is that they were priests from Persia. Probably the Kurdish area of what is now modern day Iraq.

Their visiting Jesus in Bethleham, referred to as the Epiphany, a word meaning sudden realisation, is important because it illustrates the openness of these men to see the importance of something outside of their cultural expectation.

To find 'an answer' somewhere they would never have thought of looking.

We celebrate this every year. But how often to we take their example into our daily life?

How often do we have the courage to step outside of the comfort of our own western world view to discover truth hidden in the lives and practices of people who may not talk, dress or believe as we do?

Understand them rather than war against them?

Perhaps the significance of the Epiphany is that we need to make that journey.

To quote Neil Armstrong, it would be one small step got man, but a giant leap forward for mankind.

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The True Gift of Christmas

Burr,burrr. . . . burr, burr . . .

It's 4am and I stagger sleepily toward the ringing phone. Who on earth could it be at this hour I wonder?

Hello? I inquire.

Xhoni? (John?)

est Belga! (It's Bella)
Mere Menges, (Good Morning) and


Gezuar Krishtlindje! (Merry Christmas)


It was our Albanian friend Bella ringing to wish us a Merry Christmas. I was wide awake now. It had been nearly four years since we had last seen her, but in those few waking seconds since I answered the phone the years between us had dissolved, The past had catapulted into the present and the miles that divided us erased.

It was as though we had never been separated.

Then it hit me, That's what Christmas is really about! It's about God eliminating the barriers.

Making all things just as they were when Man and God walked together in the garden. Catapulting the past into the present and erasing the miles that divided us.

That's the real gift of Christmas.

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So, what's in a name?

Anyone who has visited this site previously may notice that I've changed its name.

Why?

Well, when I began this particular blog, just one year ago, I was a full time trainee granddad, 'Home Alone' while Anthea completed personal commitments in the UK (where we had been living), and I got a new home together for us here in New Zealand and cared for our granddaughter while her mum worked.

Well, baby is now walking, the renovation complete, Anthea is home.

I am no longer alone and the name 'Home Alone' seems somehow redundant.

Anyway, looking back on recent postings it seems this blog has evolved (degenerated?) in to the ramblings of an elderly discontent rather than the benign reflections of a trainee granddad.

So, welcome to the Meldrew Factor.

For further explaination read he sidebar opposite.

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Insomnia

The wall calendar on my kitchen fridge reminds me that it's just 21 more BIG sleeps till Anthea returns. There is much I could write about the excitement I feel at the thought of her return, but this small poem I found today says it so much better.

When I am with you, we stay up all night,
When you're not here, I can't go to sleep.

Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.

Rumi. Persia (1207-1273)

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Home again!

The restoration work at St Barnabas is now complete.

The Bishop re consecrated the Church yesterday, and this morning Archbishop David Moxom presided over our first mass.

Great joy and celebration.

It may be a sad commentary on my rather dull life but I had the BEST time, ever!

Seems my 'Viaje Interior' had bought me full circle. I'm Home.

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Autumn is a time to make ready

It's autumn in Albania now and our friends are working long hours to bring in the last of the summer crops and prepare for the cold winter days ahead.

Hay stacks are being covered, tobacco leaves and the last of the seasons capsicums have been cut and hung out to dry on the wire fences, fermenting grapes distilled into Raki and figs, apples, summer fruit & vegetables preserved.

Autumn is a very busy time.

Village men make sure the animal barns are warm and dry then scour the hillsides with their donkeys in search of fire wood so the family can cook and keep warm.

It's a very different picture from the one we are used to in an industrialized world where summer days are carefree holiday times. In an agricultural economy summer & autumn are times when we need to think ahead and work hard to be ready for the dormant winter months when work will no longer be possible.

I was reminded of this scene today by friends with whom I am sharing this internal voyage on-line. It's an inter-faith experience focusing on Ramadan, the 9th month of the Islamic calendar and has a harvest time theme unlike Lent, which is full of spring images.

The autumnal timing of Ramadan is in many ways more like Advent and this, mixed with my memories of Albania, provides a strong imagery for my own internal voyage, my viaje interior. Like the wise virgins who needed to make sure they had enough oil for their lamps to last till the bridegroom arrived, we must work now, in the autumn, to prepare our hearts and order our lives so that we too will be ready for Him.

I'll continue to blog my journey over these next few weeks, but if you wish to join us you can use this link.You can share in the reflections by recording your comments, if you wish, or just slip in & out anonymously and unnoticed. Either way you'd be very welcome.

Asalam Alayakom (Peace be with you)

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Being in Unity

As someone who was at the forefront of the ecumenical movement in New Zealand for almost 20 years, one of my guiding scripture was Psalm 133 in which the Psalmist clearly says that God's blessing of eternal life is for those who dwell in unity.

This year. as part of my own personal pilgrimage, I am making an on-line inter-faith journey through the month of Ramadan. It's an informal format, responsibility for providing the reflective input lies with fellow blogger Yosra and these reflections, along with remarks and comments from readers, like myself, create a virtual support group format.

But what, you might well ask, would a Christian have in common with a Muslim?

Well, apart from cultural differences, quite a lot actually. Obviously our understanding of the Trinity and therefore the Divinity of Jesus are areas where we differ but hay, Judaism shares those same concerns about us too, and many Christians would identify quite strongly with Israel.

Otherwise all three monotheistic religions (Christianity, Judaism & Islam) would see them selves in unity on all other important issues and this is supported by ongoing dialogue at the highest level.

That is, we all believe in the one God and we all share the same (Hebrew) Scriptures.

But more importantly, at grass roots level, we all love God and want to deepen our relationship with Him and with one another.

. . . . and that's a lot to share in common.

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Becoming who I already am

I closed my past posting by saying,

"Maybe the next big journey should be the one the Spanish call un Viaje Interior, a journey inside. The road least traveled, the spiritual voyage of faith we are invited to undertake each Lent that leads to the discovery of God within."


Well it's not lent, but it is Ramadan . . . so I decided to follow my own counsel. It was wonderful. Just me and God, then . . .

"To be what you want to be, you must give up being what you are.Yusef Islam (formaly Cat Stevens . . . .

"We cannot become what we need to be by remaining what we are," Max DePree.

And the words of Jesus, 'If you want to find your life, you must lose it.'

Party Pooppers!

So.

What do I want to be?

The words bounced like thunder around the mountains of my mind. Despite all the self awareness courses I had been on I had no idea, in that moment, what I wanted to be, or what I needed to stop being in order to become it. All I wanted was some warm fuzzy time with God. To give him the benefit of my undivided attention for a while. Is that too much to ask God?

Like it or not, my viaje interior has started to kick in - and I didn't like it.

Was there anything holding me back? I searched my mind. My first thought was of the memory of my youngest daughter who died of natural causes just 4 days before her 20th birthday. She is in my every thought, still, so was God going to ask me to leave her memory behind as I moved on?

I went to sleep heavy hearted.

Then out of the blue this morning He showed me a burning bush. He began to show me how, in returning to my old life here in NZ, I had tried to pick up the mantle of my old reputation - and this was chaining me to a past which, though very rewarding, was none the less, past.

To move on all I needed to stop being was 'Mr Got it all together'. Simple!

For the first time I felt myself peeping under the covers of my own ego

But now I'm 'Mr Got it all, but not sure how to put it together. Oh well, back to the viaje. Maybe I should throw in a little fasting this time, just to make sure!

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un Viaje Interior

I can't remember the exact date it happened, but it was some time in July 1995 that we decided to take an adult 'Gap Year.' To abandon our orderly timetabled lifestyle and celebrate millennium year with a full 12 months traveling.

An overland Odyssey of discovery through south east Asia, the sub continent, the middle east and finally, wintering over somewhere on the west coast of Ireland in a small fishing village: any fishing village.

Because an Odyssey is not something you can timetable very precisely, planning gave way to spontaneity and we began to see our lives in small rather than large bytes of time. A day here, a week or two there, several weeks to make our way down from Istanbul to Jerusalem then, sometime in the Autumn, to head for Ireland, etc. etc. We had never lived like this before. It was vaguely irresponsible but very exciting.

Then, as is the way with Odysseys, one year rolled over in to two, two became four and then, before we knew it, seven years had elapsed and our life style had become permanently transitory, spontaneous and subject to sudden change. Over the course of those seven years we lived at 9 different addresses in four different countries, spent 18 months traveling and visited over 50 different nations.

The exception had become the rule and short term ruled us absolutely.

Now that we have decided to re settle in New Zealand, part of us feels we should revert to our previously well ordered long term outlook on life, like everyone else, while the rest of us wonders if we can - or even want to anymore?

Maybe the next big journey should be the one the Spanish call un Viaje Interior, a journey inside. The road least traveled, the spiritual voyage of faith we are invited to undertake each Lent that leads to the discovery of God within.

Now thats a journey that required flexibility, an openness to radical change and a readiness to embrace the unknown!

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Living in the past

The neatly sewn monogram on her yellow Polo Shirt announced to me, and any one else who cared to look, that she was Kylie, Assistant Manager at the local swimming complex. It was my first visit.

'Senior please Kylie', I said, - almost proud of the fact I'd reached that magic age where every thing's half price again. 'Oh yes', she questioned? 'My dad looks way older than you, and he's only 56! 'Mind you', she added, he is 50 kg over weight, a couch potato, and wouldn't come to the pool if his life depended on it.' 'Well, perhaps it might,' I replied with a smile as I ratted through the change in my jeans pocket for the $3.50 cost of a senior entrance. We're now the chattiest of friends, but her comments made me wonder, what constitutes old, and how come it doesn't always equate to age?

When I was first married I was 22 (yes, really) I was very much the trendy young man about town: 'Avengers' style 3 piece hand tailored suites, winkle picker shoes, a tailored 'car-coat' and always a colored silk handkerchief in my jacket pocket. My musical tastes were current. I went to all the right parties and to use the urban jargon of the day, I was very much 'in the grove!'

Ten years and 5 children later I found it impossible to button the suit jacket, I'd long since discarded the waist coat, the silk handkerchief had been mangled in the wash and the winkle pickers were past their best. We occasionally still got together for a 60's revival evening and a chat about how great it was back then, but the 2am feed for the little one meant the evenings finished early and the 'grove' I so proudly once occupied was now beginning to look more like a grave.

Like so many of our generation, we had built a demographic wall around our fading youth, shut ourselves off from outside stimulation and were struggling to rise our children in post war cultural vaccum which wasn't appropriate for the 80's and which only increased the hight of the wall. I knew very well where Kiley's dad was: lost for ever in the timeless 60's with no hope of ever being found.

Yes, they were 'good old days,' they always will be, but they're past. You can't live there and the only difference between a grove and a grave is the depth.

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Getting in touch with Charlie

'Why do you blog', a friend asked me yesterday. We were talking about creating a web presence for him and, so naturally, he wanted to know what blogging was all about.

I've been blogging regularly now for nearly 5 years (publicly and privately) and for almost 20 years, journaling as well, so coming up with an answer wasn't too hard.

'Well'. I said, 'I think the best way to explain it is to tell you a story. It's about a man called Edgar Bergan. Edger is probably best known as the father of the actress Candice Bergan, but in the 1930-40's he hosted one of the most popular radio shows in America. It was a very simply format. Edgar was a ventriloquist and the program was just him dialogging with his dummy, a character he called Charlie McCarthy.

Well, it seems that one day, one of the shows writers called to Edgar's hotel room to deliver the script for that evenings show. As he was about to knock on the door, he overheard Edgar sharing his deepest personal problems with someone else who was in the room with him. Being sensitive to the moment, the script writer waited outside for a convenient moment to enter. When Edgar had finished his story, the writer heard the other person in the room reply. To his astonishment, Edgar's counselor was none other than Charlie, his ventriloquist dummy. When all the talking was over the writer knocked, entered and delivered the script. 'It's none of my business Mr Bergan', said the writer, 'but how come you took counsel from Charlie? He's just a wooden dummy, actually Edger - he's you.'

'I know,' said Bergan, 'I know, but when ever Charlie speaks to me, I never know what he is going to say, and often what he does say astounds me with it's brilliance.'


You see, I said to my friend, it's like that when I write. It helps me get in touch with the Charlie that's in all of us. With out getting too spiritual, I said, It's a wisdom and a perspective God plants within each of us. Some people call it 'free writing,' just starting off and seeing where it leads. For me, blogging's the best way to unlock that wisdom both for myself and others. It helps clarify my thinking, it puts me in touch with my higher self so I can see a fresh perspective on my own life,

but best of all -

. . . . . it's cheaper than therapy!

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Say aaah

You know, it's what the doctor makes you say when you have a mouth full of finger and wooden spatula!

But did you know that the aaah sound has much more profound, even spiritual connotations, at least according to Dr Wayne W Dyer, well known author of such 'self help' books as 'Your Erroneous Zones', 'Pulling Your Own Strings' and the one I'm currently reading, 'Manifest your Destiny'

According to the good doctor, it's the one sound that is common to God, no matter what you call him: Yahweh, Buddha, Allah, 'Krishah, Brama, Siddah, etc. etc., all stem from the aaah sound.

It's also the cry of a new born baby as it draws it's first breath, and is the only sound humans can make effortessly by simply breathing out, and without moving the lips, tongue, jaw or teeth.

According to Dr Wayne aaah is not only the sound of creation, but it also happens to be the sound of joy and delight Aaah, the sound that accompanies the act of procreation, (think about it), the primary vowel sound and the first phonetic letter of the alphabet!

Interstingly in Hebrew, as you may know, the vowels are not written into the word but left for the reader to fill in as the words are spoken out. However, as it is forbidden in Jewish culture to speak the name of God, the name of Yahweh (written yhwh) is simply said as an exhaled breath, aaah!, implying that God is as essential to life as breathing and as prayer itself.

This is the sound we need to make to connect with God, says Dyer, ideally as a mantra and ideally at dawn!

Hhmmm, can't be too haaard, I'll let you know how I get on!

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Will the real me stand up please,

I see it happening in my 10 month old granddaughter, Sujin. The development of an individual personality. A set of cultural practices and norms she is taking onboard that will equip her socially as she grows toward adulthood. Like a jigsaw that is slowly coming together; her mothers smile, her father's quiet gentleness, her own growing sense of self awareness and importance with in the family, etc,etc.When she was born hers was a world that's borders were largely closed to us. At first we couldn't laugh together or communicate joy or sadness or personal need, or anything. She was Gods creation, born for eternity, but like a tourist from another planet who knew nothing of our culture or our ways.

I know from our own recent travels through Central Asia and across the Tibetan Plateau how totally out of it you can feel. You don't know the language, you have no idea what food to eat. You don't know the social norms and you can't even find your way to the bathroom! Its a feeling of total dependency and helplessness. Like that of a baby. And yet to survive, you need to build your own persona, a social identiikit, a construct through which you can relate to the world around you, even though your visit there may be only for a limited time. So it was for us as travelers, and If you have any belied in life after death, so it is for each one of us on planet earth. We are born with a unique (eternal) and individual personality onto which we must weld one that's more temporal and useful for the culture in which we must survive.

So which is our real (true self) identity?

The one we were born with (and will probably return to when we die), or the one we develop during our comparatively short time here? The identity which for want of a better term we call our ego, or by comparison, false self.

It's a question I have been struggling with over the past several months as I've cared for Sujin and observed this process unfolding before me. And its a question a fellow blogger from Stockholm has mentioned to me only to day. Talking of this process in her own life she says, 'It is an ongoing struggle of becoming more and more of our true selves'.

Though it's a blinding revelation to me this concept of true self / false self is not a discovery I can claim as unique. As I Google the phrase I see that religious and philosophical scholars have been using the term and discussing this paradox for years. So who am I to try to clarify the issue.

For me these are important considerations though as I work through the personal issues of my new lifestyle. So for myself, and possibly my fellow blogger, it's more a question of how to hold both of these identities, the true and the false self in some sort of healthy tension. How to know our real eternal value as a child of God/Allah/Yahweh with out believing too much, the publicity of our own burgeouning ego.

And I used to think life would become less complicated the older I became!

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But what lies beneath?

David Bowie and Madonna are past masters at it. The media call it reinventing yourself and it involves taking on a new persona, drastically altering the way you look and dress and maybe even having surgical procedures done too, so that you can re-present yourself as a new product to a new market.

For most of us non celebs, this is only something we read about in 3am, or similar publications that we browse in the doctors waiting room: perish the thought that any of us would admit to buying such puerile trash. You see, for the most part we adopt a hair style and choose the type of clothing we feel we look best in while we are still in our early teens and, apart from gaining weight,wrinkles and grey hair, we remain largely unchanged, appearance wise, till the day we die.

When my grandfather went to work at around 14 he wore his first suite, a style of clothing he then wore everyday till he died. At a similar age I, and my generation, adopted jeans, sneakers and t-shirts as our national costume and, whilst it is not something I wear everyday, it's still my default dress code setting. When todays 14 year olds become grandparents they will still have scruffy hair, ware a hoody and pants that carry the crutch at knee level and are weighted down by chunky silver chains.

But what lies beneath? Is it just external appearances that are important, or need we look deeper?

With this being the first year of my seventh decade I've been using my changed circumstances (retirement, relocating back to NZ after seven years, becoming grandad, rather than dad etc, etc), to look beneath. To try and see objectively, if I can, who I am and how I fit into the space I (and others) have unthinkingly moulded for me over the past 60 years. To have, if you will, an internal makeover and possibly discard some things that no longer serve me well, perhaps even take on some that are more in keping with my current neads? But what's inside is far harder to identify honestly and objectively, and still harder to alter than either my hair style (if I had any left) or the type of clothing I choose to wear.

So, whilst this process has unearthed more questions, at this stage, than answers, it has made me hugely aware of the influence I will have on the development of Sujin's world view, her values and her attitudes and maybe, understanding this will be key to my own internal make-over.

Anyone for charades?

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