flyingkiwi's site

More about food

Tue, 02 Oct 2007 10:35:28 +0100

Why do you eat? When you eat, why do you eat what you do? Why do you eat when you do?

I think there are three reasons for eating, and they have something to teach us. I eat something because it like its taste, I eat something because I'm hungry, and I eat something because I know its good for me. Three reasons, three different things you go looking for, based on your reason for eating. For example, if I'm not really that hungry, but feel like something tasty, I might eat chocolate or crisps. If I'm hungry, I don't really (within reason!) mind what I eat, I just want something to fill the space in my belly. And lastly, I might choose different foods when I'm conscious of needing more iron, or sugar, or vitamin B or C or whatever. Pretty straightforward so far. But I think that we can cheat ourselves out of so much by putting foods into these categories - for example, I like potatoes (category 1) and they fill me up, (category 2), and (provided I go easy on the butter and salt) they are also good for me (category 3). Why should you care? Because of the analogy to life in general that is in here somewhere.

We are robbed when we approach life or situations with an attitude that classifies them into one of these categories. If I see friendship as only something that fills a hole in my time or my life, then I miss not only the truly nurturing things of it, but also the sweet things too. If I chase only after things that are tasty, I miss seeing the parts of them that are good for me too. And sometimes it becomes how we see God as well. Sometimes I want to pray or go looking for God only because I think I "should", because it's "good for me", and a spirit of duty and drudgery (like eating endless spinach) descends. In that state, I miss the sweetness of knowing him, not because it's not there, but because of my own attitude. If I go looking for him as someone to fill the hole inside my spirit, even when he does I may not see that he can heal the reason it's there, and not just be a comforter for a short time. And if I just go chasing the warm fuzzies, I may not know how much I could be being nourished and grow, in my relationship with him and with other people.

So, this is my challenge - have a look at yourself, and see where you have missed out on enjoying the taste, or the satisfaction, or the nourishment in the things you do... then see how you can go about truly making the most of them. Just a thought :-) K.

Thinking well

Wed, 18 Jul 2007 15:43:33 +0100

Have you ever had one of those days when nothing can go wrong? Rare, I know, but hang in there ... maybe you'll know what I'm on about soon. Perhaps you've mixed up the tablespoon and teaspoon measures, but found that the chocolate cake was just that much better with a little more rum. Or washed a red shirt with your whites and found that pink actually really suits you (it doesn't suit me - I've tried). Or arrived an hour later than you thought the event started to find you'd mixed up the times and you are now perfectly on time? All these things started out badly, but ended well. You've been looking backwards through time to find that what you'd originally thought terrible has now, somehow, changed into something not quite so terrible after all.

I think that this is what redemption is all about. It is a process that takes us - you and flawed little me - as its starting materials, and changes us. Redemption is worked into us, and out of us, and through us until one day, as we look back on the journey we can see that we too have been changed for the better. It's not a bad process, as they go, but takes something quite outside ourselves to accomplish. After all, all those examples mentioned earlier were coincidental (and hypothetical - I really don't suit pink!), but they do serve to make my point. But what if there was a way to take all situations - all things, now and forever - and find a way to work in (and out and through) them for good too? No more coincidences! This is a part of the Great Big Redemption Plan! (dum dum duuuum).

The Great Big Redemption Plan is not a new idea, and it's certainly not my idea. Perhaps I'd better start by saying clearly what it's not. The Great Big Redemption Plan is not a way of saying that everything will just work out if you hang in there. Or wait long enough. Or work hard enough. Or smile enough. No, for the Great Big Redemption Plan to be set in motion, Something had to Happen. (I'm turning into Winnie the Pooh with all these capital letters!). Its beginning was active. An act to set this retrospective prospective and everyotherspective plan in motion. I will now digress for a moment.

My flatmates and I went out for dinner the other night, and we were talking about the Passion of the Christ movie. I've seen it twice now, and on both occasions found it horrible, stunning, awesome, and moving in all kinds of ways. How's that for a situation where, when you're in it, is hard to see how good can come from it? But the last minute or so of that particular movie is the whole entire point. They are that Something Happening. They are the beginning of the Great Big Redemption Plan.

So there is one important difference between those days that work out for the best, and the Great Big Redemption plan. On those days when it turns out ok, most of the time it's a coincidence. The final article - that pink shirt, the rummy chocolate cake - they are not what they were intended to be, and only by coincidence did they turn out ok. The pink shirt really would have been better white, but pink is not as terrible as you'd originally though. And this is where the difference comes. Imagine a voucher that you've been given - you can take it to the shop, and redeem it. You redeem it by swapping the promise (the voucher) for the real thing (a new pair of shoes). And the new pair of shoes are then the real thing - they are what the voucher is intended to be, and by redeeming the voucher, it becomes what it was intended to be.

Do you see the connection now? The Great Big Redemption Plan is not intended to make life lovely for us - its meant to make us into what we're meant to be. That's what redemption is. We are like a promise, like a voucher that is, by Something Happening, able to be transformed into what we are meant to be. No coincidence at all - a divine plan that is being worked into and out of and all throughout our lives. Redemption. The end of the story. A happy happy ending. So don't let the small things (those red socks...) get you down. Even they can be transformed and redeemed. And certainly don't let the big things get you down either. You - all of you (and each of you!), and every moment of your life can be redeemed as well. Just a thought. :-) K.

Thanks!

Tue, 17 Jul 2007 10:35:03 +0100

A quick thankyou to everyone who came on Saturday night. It went well (as far as I know!). We sold 28 pictures, and raised £310 for CAP :-)

Go well all ... K

Photo exhibition

Thu, 14 Jun 2007 11:30:48 +0100

Hey everyone!

Some exciting news from me - I'm having my first ever photo exhibition and sale in a few weeks. It's to raise money for a local (but international!) organisation called Christians Against Poverty who are a budget and debt councelling charity. See www.capuk.org for more details. I figure this is a good way for me to do a little (ok, soft) market research about what sells and what doesn't. Also means that I have to get over my issues of "I don't know how to set a price for my pictures so you can just have it" - here at least I can set a decent donation for each photo and then just price accordingly! So much easier! So, if you're in the neighbourhood in July, it would be great if you could come :-) There will be various sizes of photos for sale, as well as greeting cards etc etc. See the flyer below for details.

Go well all! :-) K.

More on small words

Thu, 07 Jun 2007 17:20:38 +0100

A little different from the last post, but still interesting (I hope). Small words. Big big difference! Isn't it strange how they make such a difference. Yes. No. Depending on the question, I guess, those particular small words will have enormous significance. But they are requested - they are answers, so they are not really just words on their own anymore. You have to have the question to go with it too. But the ones I'm talking about now are those other small words that aren't strictly asked for. The ones we don't 'need', the ones that aren't requested or required.

My first year students started their exams yesterday. At Oxford that means that they have to dress in sub fusc, which is a black suit, white bow tie for the guys, black skirt and black ribbon for the gals, with the commoners gown over the top. If it's your first exam of the season, you wear a white carnation, penultimate exam means a pink one, and your last one it's red. The town is littered with flowers and black and white students! (and I think that as a first year lecturer I was just as nervous as they were!) Anyway, one of them sent me a little text message before his exam. It said thank you for teaching them all this year ... and it absolutely made my day. Totally. Makes me smile now. My office-mate is probably wondering why I am grinning at the computer screen. My computer code is broken and I have a conference to stress about, but it still makes me smile.

My flatmate has a similar story, but for her the 'un-needed' words were "Love it!". Short. Sweet. And if the response is anything to go by, just as needed and necessary, as required and rewarding as the other ones we know about. So here's a challenge - go on and say them! Find someone to say thankyou to. Tell someone when you like their work, or when they've done well. Smiling makes you happy. See what happens ... Just a thought :-) K.

Renewal

Wed, 06 Jun 2007 12:56:16 +0100

Strange how sometimes the smallest words are the ones that mean the most, and are hardest to understand. (When I was in Italy I found it much easier to understand someone just speaking as they normally would - the long words have roots in common with English, so I got them. The short ones were just alone, and there was nothing to work on. Don't worry though, this post is nothing really to do with speaking (or not) Italian.) I've been thinking, as the title says, about renewal. Two small words there: re- and -new, which together make quite an astounding concept. We tend to use renewal to describe what happens when you'd like to borrow a library book for one more week. We use it more along the lines of an extension, rather than (as I will now propose) what I think it means. To understand it better, we need to look at each part in turn.

Starting at the end, what does new mean? I think that new is a superlative. I think that when something is at that time = zero state, there is nothing else that can be 'newer' - zero is (sorry, you maths geeks) the smallest number. It is absolute. When something is at that time, that instant of creation, it is really and truly new. As time passes, it gets older, so what we really mean when we say that one thing is newer than another is that it is less old. So if new is related only to time, then it is not related to a magnitude of newness... when something is new, that is an absolute, totally, all-encompassing newness. It couldn't be any newer, as there is no more oldness to do away with. Right. Pedantic, I know ...

Now let's think about the other part, the first bit. We know that 're-' means 'again'. We aren't told of any limits by this word. Again means again, and again means again. It doesn't mean twice and then no more. It doesn't mean you have a limit to the number of 'again's you get. It just means to do it again.

Putting them together, do you see why to speak about renewing a library book loan is not doing justice to this little word? After all, most libraries have a policy where you can borrow for three weeks, then "renew" for one more. Or something. But that's not really renewal at all - there is a limit to the 're's, and new doesn't really mean new! This is (thankfully!) not how I think God's idea of renewal works. When we come to him, he makes us new. Totally. Utterly. New. That instant of creation. That thoroughly through-and-through newness. He doesn't rewind us - that would be making us 'newer' by making us less old. No, he makes us new. He re-makes us, if you like. And (again, thankfully!) he does it over and over and over again. How many times? Again. And again. And again. How many is that? As many as you need. As many times as you'll let him. And how new is that? All new. Time = zero. Nothing of the old left. New has come, old is gone and forgotten.

So if you've been feeling a little old this week - perhaps carrying doubts and shames like old library books, and trying to extend the grace you found last time to the next day - why not go and be renewed? Ask God for it, and believe him when he says you can have it. Be renewed. New. Again. New.

:-) K

Follow the leader

Tue, 22 May 2007 12:28:29 +0100

I’ve been thinking about leading and following, and how that all works. This is how I think about it. Imagine you are in a hot air baloon (or a helicopter, or a microlite, or are just able to fly, whatever - it's your imagination!) and are looking down on three people. The first person is moving due north in a straight line. The second person is following the first one, but started a little to the left, so moves north-east as they follow. The third person is following the second, but starts below and to their right, so moves north-west as they follow. I've drawn a pretty picture to make it easier (left and right were never my strong point!).

After a little while, as each one continues to follow the one in front, all will end up in a straight line moving north. At this time, the one in the middle turns into a pumpkin (or James Bond, or finds a cloak of invisibility - again, it's your imagination) and disappears. Looking down on the remaining two, it would now seem that the third one is following the first one. By the second person following the first, the initial direction of the third person has now lined up to be following the first - just like getting the kinks out of a chain by pulling it along the ground. Fine. So what....?

Now, (if your imagination has not run out) there are two further scenarios to be considered. What happens if the second person doesn't follow the first? Clearly, the third will not end up following the first either. Secondly, what happens if the second one stops moving all together? This is a little bit more tricky, but what happens is this. As soon as the second one stops moving, the third one ceases to move in the direction of the first, and moves only towards the second one. Sooner or later they will bump into each other, and neither will be closer to the first one. Right. So what...?

If you want to lead people, where do you want to lead them to? Eventually, they will end up following what you are following – and if it’s a good thing that you are following, your best bet for getting them there too is to continue to follow that good thing yourself. As soon as you stop pursuing that good thing, they begin to follow you, and cease to see beyond to the good thing themselves. Paul told his buddies, “Follow me as I follow Christ.” You have to be moving to lead. You have to be following something better to lead. So keep going, keep moving, keep leading, and keep following. Keep encouraging those behind you, and supporting those ahead, and one day we’ll all figure it out. Just a thought :-) K

Venice

Mon, 21 May 2007 11:29:14 +0100

Hey all!

Some new photos are up in the (duh) photo pages.

I spent four nights in Venice for a conference - terrible weather for sitting inside in a darkened room all day, but lovely one we were let out. I didn't spend much time sight-seeing, just wandered around as I felt like it. On more than one occasion I wished for a tripod, as the whole "don't move at all for the next 1.6 seconds" scenario was a little beyond me this time. And didn't have my trusty bag of rice handy either. Ah well. I hope you are all well! More soon ... K

The safest place

Wed, 04 Apr 2007 13:32:23 +0100

Once upon a time there was an old man who had three sons. On his death-bed, the old man called his sons to him and gave them each a brown pebble, saying, "Keep it safe. Put it where it belongs." The three sons were good and obedient sons, so that is just what they did. The eldest son locked his pebble in the family vault where niether fire, nor light, not damp, nor theives could get to it. The second son sewed the pebble into the lining of his coat so that he carried it everywhere he went. The third son was much younger than the other two, and said to himself, "This is a stone. Stones belong outside in the garden," and he tossed it down in the dirt.

Days, weeks, months, seasons passed, until one day the brothers saw a tree growing where no-one had planted one. The tree's branches were heavy with the biggest, sweetest, juciest fruit any of them had tasted before. "Where did this wonderful tree come from?", the brothers wondered aloud. A wise man overheard their questions, and said to the youngest brother, "Well done! This is the tree you have planted by obeying your father's instructions, for the pebble was not a stone but a seed. Your obedience has planted this tree, and you shall have its fruit." The elder brothers were annoyed, and said, "We followed his instructions too! We kept our pebbles as safe as we knew how. Our younger brother just threw his away!" The wise man replied, "You missed the lesson. The greater command was the latter one - to 'put it where it belongs' - for nothing can be safe until it is in its proper place. Your brother knew that, and though neither he nor you may fully understand how, this tree and its fruit have followed from that seed being in its right place."

What have you hidden away, locked up, smothered that should be in the light and growing? What have you carried around with you that should be set down and left alone? Do your hopes, ambitions, desires live in the place they belong - so that they can bear fruit - or are they somewhere else? Just a thought, K.

An extraordinary thing

Thu, 29 Mar 2007 13:45:55 +0100

Love is the most extraordinary thing. I can't get my head around it. When I love someone, it depends on me, not on them (after all, "I love you" starts with "I"). It's me who has the love to do the loving with, not someone else who can somehow conjure it out of me. What does this matter? It means that I don't have to worry about whether someone 'deserves' love; I don't have to know everything about them, or even know them at all. And it means, too, that there is no such thing as 'unloveable'. But while love starts with what we have (where it comes from before we'll come to later on), and goes out from there, it changes things as it goes. When someone is loved and begins to realise it, something inside them expands and grows, and begins to become 'loveable'. They begin to fill their space, to be transformed from a shell, an idea of a person, into the real thing. The order of things is important here. We become more and more 'loveable' as we realise we are loved already. Loveability is the result, not the cause. You've come across this idea before, I'm sure - have you ever noticed that it's easier to find friends by being one, than by looking for them? Have you ever wondered why smiling makes you happy? An extraordinary thing!

There's a passage in the Bible that is quite well known, and talks about love:

Love is patient. Love is kind.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

Now that you've read that once, go through and read it again, but this time substitute your name for 'love', and he or she for 'it'. "Keri is patient... etc"

Did that feel like lying? Did it make you feel terrible inside? Convicted? Don't despair - the story doesn't end here! In fact, we have to go back a step or two before we can finish it off properly. We need to know where love comes from in the first place, because we can only love others because we have love in us to start with. We only have love in us to start with because we are, ourselves, loved. God loves us, and loved us first, so now we can love too. I think that the most overlooked, misinterpreted, cliched-out-of-all-perspective three words ever are "God loves me", but more about that next time. This time, instead of reading that passage with your name and feeling bad because you don't measure up, this time read it as a promise: this is God's love that the verse is speaking about, but as we let ourselves grow into the space that his love creates around us, we'll have more of his kind of love to share too. So, it becomes a promise, a hope for the future, an idea of what you - yes, little, fickle, silly old you - and I - yes, littler, fickler, sillier old me - can become. Just a thought, K :-)

Hope and angel wings

Mon, 26 Mar 2007 13:40:49 +0100

Once upon a time there was an angel so new she had no wings yet. She was taken to the wing-fitting-room and shown there hundreds upon thousands of pairs of wings. "Wings are what you need in order to fly," she was told. So, she went along the rows looking for her wings. Some were far too big, or far too small; she could see that straight away and didn't bother trying those ones on. Others she did try on, but they weren't hers, and couldn't make her fly. Some came pretty close to fitting, and it with these ones that she tried the hardest: running, jumping, leaping and flapping as hard as she could. But it was no use, and she crashed down harder in those nearly-right wings than in any of the others. She watched as her friends found their wings and soared above her. "Come and join us!", they cried, "Flying is wonderful!". But she couldn't, she had no wings to fly with. In desperation, she cried out "It's too hard! There are so many wings to try. I don't know what the right pair looks like, I don't know what I'm looking for, how will I ever find my wings?" She sat down. "Perhaps it's better not to look anymore. Perhaps I will give up now, then I'll never crash land again. I'll never be hurt again." She sat very still for a long time. Eventually, she said to herself, "If I never put on another pair of wings, I will never crash, but neither will I fly. Wings are like hopes - they are here to be tested. Some will hurt us when they let us down, but the ones that are right are the difference between standing on the ground and flying through the sky. So I will go on looking for my wings. Just because there are ones out there that are wrong, does not mean that there are none that are right."

Happy flying :-), K.

Pots

Mon, 26 Mar 2007 12:52:07 +0100

When we say that someone is full of themselves, it's usually a bad thing. We are acknowledging that there is something better to be full of than what we are made from. But 'full' is an interesting word. If I had a bowl into which I put as many stones as would fit, I would call the bowl full of stones. But then, I could pour water into it too; and though it would be more full (that is, there is more in it now, with water as well as stones) than before, it is neither full of stones, nor full of water. For a vessel to be full of something, it implies that that's all there is there. Full is exclusive.

Imagine two bowls made from clay or pottery. The first one is made in the traditional manner, with sides, a bottom, and a hollow in the middle, but the second is different. The second bowl has sides and a bottom, but the hollow in the middle is not there - it is a bowl full of clay, a bowl full of itself. Before this bowl can be used for anything, it must first be emptied; and in the case any kind of vessel, it is the emptiness that is (initially) more important than the fullness. Emptiness means that it is available. Emptiness must come first, before any kind of filling can happen. Then, of course, the next most important thing is what it becomes filled with. How much room there is for the good stuff depends on how much of the other stuff has been cleaned out.

So if you are, like I was this morning, feeling empty and wondering why, think about this. Emptiness means opportunity, because it means we are ready now to be filled with something new. Emptiness means that the difficult process of hollowing out has, perhaps, already been done. Emptiness should be treasured for this - don't let yourself shrink around what you have, don't become smaller just because at the moment you are empty. No, be larger, be more open, be more available so that as much as possible can be poured into your life. Then you will not just be full, but you will realise that the greater the emptiness before, the greater the space now filled with the new and good thing. Just a thought, K.

Conservation

Fri, 23 Mar 2007 09:04:28 +0000

Engineers like everything to be the same, conserved, constant. Things like energy, mass, and momentum. When things are not constant and change, we have to write an equation and it becomes more complicated and messy. When things are not conserved we have to wonder where they've gone to, and start thinking about losses and efficiencies, which we don't like. We like to take the finite amount we have and spent it as well as possible; minimising losses, and maximising output. And so we come up with ways of keeping things as constant as possible in order to do so - we insulate our houses to keep heat in, we have reheat cycles in our powerstations to squeeze as much as possible from the fuel we put in. We guard our resourses and stop them from changing.

God is not an engineer. He does not deal in keeping things the same. He does not have finite resourses as an input. Let me give you an example to tell you what I mean. A friend gave me a twig a month ago - just a twig off a tree, without leaves, but it did have a white tip where leaves would have grown. I took it home, and, a couple of days later (oops!) put it into a glass of water. Just because I could. Now, it sits on my windowsill, with a whole host of leaves that are getting bigger each day. The leaves that are growing on that twig did not come from last years ones that died, fell off, were kept, and are now somehow being stuck on again. No, these leaves are new. They came from the air and the sunlight and the water; they have never been before, they are new. Now think about a tree in autumn. To the tree, God says, Let the dead leaves fall; do not try and keep them, let them go. There are more where they came from. To the leaves he says, Do not worry that I am finished with you. I have something else, something different now; you will be changed into a new thing. The key to this whole process is knowing that he has more where they came from. God does not have a finite supply of life to spend; he has life in abundance, in infinite volumes, in eternal time, and limitless magnitude. He doesn't have to worry about changes and constancy like engineers do, he can just spend and spend and spend and still have more where that came from. The leaves on my little twig have come from nothing - they weren't leaves before, and now they are.

Why does this matter? (You never really thought that God was an engineer anyway.) I want to encourage you to look for the things that are alive and growing, instead of finding something dead and trying to make it live again. In the things you choose to be involved in, find those that are living, not only things that are 'good' (but might be dead). Don't be scared of the small beginnings. Don't worry that things you hope for don't yet exist - they can be made from nothing. Don't be afraid to let go the dead things. Don't be scared to 'waste' life, to see it change - if it is real life, then there's more where that came from. Just a thought, :-) K

Decisions and dinner

Tue, 20 Mar 2007 13:21:18 +0000

Imagine you are giving a dinner party, to which you've invited all your friends. If they are anything like mine, they will ask if there's anything they can bring. Sure, you say, and give them an item or two to bring along. Eggs, cocoa, vinegar, mincemeat, cheese, coffee. You know how they are going to fit together, and when they do, the result is good. Lasagne, chocolate pudding, coffee for afters. What is not good, though, is if these ingredients somehow go where they're not meant to - putting coffee in the lasagne or cheese in the pudding. But you know how to combine them all, so you're sure it will work out (if you remember not to grill the pudding, but that's another story).

One of the hardest lessons I had to learn when I moved to Canada, was this: if it is true that (a) moving to Canada is the best thing to do, then (b) it will be best for me, myself, (c) it will be best for the people that I meet when I am there (so far so good), (c) it will be best for my church and friends that I leave them (not so nice now), and (d) that it will be best for my family that I am 12,000km away in a strange land. Ouch. It was hard to take because I was proud - I didn't like to think of the connotations of being 'removed', and what that said about me. Now I realise that it wasn't really like that at all - eggs are good, but not everywhere, in everything, all the time. And if something is right, it has implications on everything. Right means right, right? So, if you've ever had to make a strange kind of decision, think about the other side of it too. Sometimes we don't know what the right implication of our decision will be on other people. Sometimes we'd like to make our decisions based only on what we think the right outcome for them would be, from the little we get to see into their lives. But we can't really do it that way. If we are asked to bring vinegar, then it does no-one any good if we bring chocolate (and vice versa). We have to hear what is right for us, and remember that we're not the one putting this great feast together. After all, we are not really the centre of the universe. (But, I hear you say, "Wherever I go, there I am", so I must be! Sure, but personally I've never learned to like coffee in my lasagne. There is a better way.) Just a thought :-) K.

Luminox

Mon, 19 Mar 2007 13:35:54 +0000

Hey everyone! Some new photos from Luminox - one of the festivals to celebrate Oxford's first millenium - are up in the photo pages.

It was a very friendly event - felt almost like new year or something, with people wandering around the streets looking at the fire sculptures (and trying to figure out how they all worked!). Since then, it has snowed, hailed, rained and shone. I ran 15 miles on Sunday, and just as I finished the 14th the hail came down. Last time, I was ready to stop at that stage, but somehow being pelted with ice gave me extra motivation to get home asap, and overall I shaved 15 mins off my time! I hope you are all well :-) K.