Banishing Thugs


There’s something about stairs. They’re kind of magic because you walk up them and you’re somewhere else, usually on the first floor of your house. But it’s amazing isn’t it? I mean, you’re standing in the same place as your kitchen sink but you’re…well…up. We never had a proper landing in our old house so I love my stairs. The other day I curled up on them in a stretch of sunshine. It was an odd place to sit but strangely comforting.  I looked up the stairwell at the banisters and the hanging light-thing, and I watched the sun skim unfinished wood. And I thought, I should sit here more often.

Last weekend I had a ball. In Northampton. With about eighty Baptist Ministers’ spouses. (If you think the words in bold are basically incompatible, please rethink your version of reality.) We came from cities and villages, big and small churches. We had grey hair and dyed hair and that lovely young hair that’s all swingy and sleek, like in adverts (sigh). We wore jeans or glasses or hearing aids or all three. We brought guitars or drums or knitting needles. And we talked. Boy, how we talked. Even the men. All three of them (but one was the speaker.)

The weekend made me think. Being human is hard. When you’re young, you’re going to make your mark on the world. Then one day, you wake up middle-aged to find the world has made its marks on you, including neck wrinkles and sticky out veins and the fact that Leo Sayer will never be Number One again. Then there are people who believe in God (and I always absolutely do, apart from sometimes), that He will help with this. Bit unpredictable how, but it usually involves bringing along the right person or the right thing at the right time in the right way. To make things better. And then, when they are, the whole Maybe I can change the world thing, comes back, but this time more modestly in small ways but quiet, like ants.

Anyway, on this weekend we had the most gracious and lovely speakers called Nigel and Judy Wright who have been in ministry over 40 years and have both made a mark on the world. They spoke on how to live the Jesus life. They talked about slavery and wisdom and how to live well. Nobody escapes scars but you don’t have to grow old with them. Embrace simplicity, endure, refuse to recycle evil. Don’t forget to pray, and breathe, and surprising things will happen.

Well, I prayed and breathed, and surprising things did. I relaxed and slept and didn’t think about work. I read a bit and walked a bit and ate a lot. There was the chocolate fountain and the cocktail bar and the quiz. We made jewellery or origami or scrapbooks. We ate cake. And on the Saturday evening we entertained each other – with stories and tea towels. And a uni-cycle (You had to be there really…)

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And the reason I love these weekends is because they remind me to pay attention. To things that really matter, instead of that procession of thugs marching through my mind in hob nailed boots –  email this person, ring so-and-so, do school work, pay trip money, prepare Sunday School. Hurry, hurry, so you can get it all done double quick…

So if you haven’t been on one, you really should. Of course you might not be married to a Baptist minister which is a bit tricky (I have heard there are single ones, though I’ve never actually met one). But then there are other inspirational/pampering things you could go on. Maybe now is the time…

And if, like me, your time and money is limited, you could always try sitting in places in your house you’ve never sat before. Or walk upstairs and admire your ripe garden.

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There are other places to banish the thugs. This one is good.

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Or this one

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I quite like this one (different perspective)

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I’ve been meaning to sit here for a while. It saves getting up after  putting your socks on.

Interesting that when I’m busy writing blog posts, and taking photos, the thugs don’t stand a chance…

What helps you to relax and take your mind off things?