Driving v Train

I have never been a big fan of driving. I got a car when we moved out here because nearly every job I applied for was community based and required that I had a car. As it turned out, I got a hospital based job. Although I occasionally go out to people's homes, the job does not require that I have a car. Because my beloved is an early career academic, we could be on the move at any moment, so it seems sensible to keep the car as it significantly increases my future job prospects. So I am driving to and from work.

Fortunately, our flat comes with a parking space. But there is a problem at the other end. We both working in the centre of the Leeds and parking is not free. But I did manage to find a questionable neighbourhood about a mile and a half from work that has unpermitted parking, so I walk in from there. So I managed to circumvent a significant potential expense.

I think what I miss most about the train is the downtime it created.  I used to read, write, and listen to podcasts on the train. It was great.  See, when I am driving, I have to pay attention. And although I am much better than I was, I still need to be more attentive as the signage and the directions and angles that moving obstacles such as pedestrians, cyclists, and other vehicles appear to my sensibility to be in unexpected places.  Not only do we drive on the left side in England, but the cars are also right hand drive, which puts the bulk of the vehicle to your left instead of to your right. For me, it makes judging exactly where the vehicle is in space a bit more conscious and less automatic. Also, in general, the roads are much narrower and the other drivers have a certain level of comfort with getting real close to other vehicles when passing that I just do not have. With all that going on, even listening to the radio can be a bit too distracting for me in city traffic. It was also quite nice in the train that someone else was paying attention of getting safely from A to B.

I really miss my downtime. Driving has really cut into my reading, writing, and podcast listening.

One nice thing about the car is that we live five minutes drive from some nice country roads, and the wife and I will often go on a Sunday drive. These pictures are from those. While I'd hire a car in a heartbeat to drive to Stratford-upon-Avon or London for a weekend, I doubt I would do so for a 40 minute drive. So the Sunday drive is definitely an advantage in the car's favour.

Photo Credits

My beloved wife

Get a job!

Over seven years ago when we arrived on these shores, I found a job in two interviews in less than two weeks. That experience misled me to believe I could repeat that performance at any time. I lost track of the number of interviews I got in 3 months. While it was fantastic to have that much interest, it was still incredibly stressful being unemployed in a society where worthiness is measured by price tags and purchasing power. How easily self worth slips away with net worth. I wish I could hold onto that feeling of just getting a new job. I am so grateful, and I am at my best when I am in the midst of sincere gratitude, which is a challenge to maintain amidst adverts (sometimes disguised as news) that encourage us to covet and to fear. How quickly my confidence fled when I joined the ranks of the unemployed, the discarded scourge of civilisation. It sure feels good to be back in employment.

Photo Credits

Bobby & Luanne: car-memes.com

Employed: extrapetitemom.blogspot.com

Epiphany: not a stop on the Red Line

I think it was 1991. At the time that it happened, I did not connect this experience with the divine, but there was no doubt of its transcendence. It was a Saturday. I was taking the above ground portion of the Red Line after visiting a very generous friend. We watched Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure on laser disc. I got on the train and sat on the left side of the car. I looked over at the only other passenger, a shabbily dressed man. It was sunset. Imperceptibly, my presence expanded through the things touched by the rays of the setting sun: starting with me, then the man, and the car, and the rest of the train, and the trees next to the tracks, and the buildings beyond them, and the water beyond that, and through to the sun itself… until, with the rays shining in every direction, I was one with the universe beyond. It all happened in less than an instant, and just like that, I could sense everything altogether and at once. There was no transition: I was in the train, I was everywhere, I was back in the train. But there was a residual, a benevolent residual. I could remember being everywhere. It was so beautiful. The residual was quite strong at first. I was beaming with joy, and I felt very connected with my fellow passenger. It was like a half life kind of thing… each minute, the residual was half the strength of what it was the minute before. And although in the din of day-to-day activities I can easily forget that this epiphany is part of me, it is there even decades later. Because even though it is continuing to weaken by half with each passing minute, it will never entirely disappear.

It only occurred to me quite recently that what I mean when I say divine is more along the lines of this experience on the Red Line than it is about some easy to articulate set of assertions that comes nowhere near the impossible to describe wonder that is our sentience. In this experience, I did not find myself in the midst of an all-knowing, all-powerful entity.  It was more like a fantastic, magnificent, mysterious, uncertain, powerlessness reaching far beyond the concept of entity. It may have been God.

Photo Credits

BIll & Ted: Flash Bang Movie Reviews

The Red LIne near Dorchester: BHP Development

Botticelli's Adoration of the Magi: ChurchYear.Net

Christmas 2014

Our first Christmas in Yorkshire is also our first Christmas in the UK

 Christmas Breakfast

 Christmas Dinner

Victoria Sponge

My cheeky wife taking a picture of me watching the Queen's Christmas Message without my knowledge...

Christmas in Yorkshire

In preparation for our first Christmas in the UK, we got a tree.

It seemed the logical thing to do

There is a Taoist story that goes like this: This farmer had only one horse, and one day the horse ran away. The neighbors came to console over his terrible loss. The farmer said, "What makes you think it is so terrible?" A month later, the horse came home--this time bringing with her two beautiful wild horses. The neighbors became excited at the farmer's good fortune. Such lovely strong horses! The farmer said, "What makes you think this is good fortune?" The farmer's son was thrown from one of the wild horses and broke his leg. All the neighbors were very distressed. Such bad luck! The farmer said, "What makes you think it is bad?" A war came, and every able-bodied man was conscripted and sent into battle. Only the farmer's son, because he had a broken leg, remained. The neighbors congratulated the farmer. "What makes you think this is good?" said the farmer.

It is not a literal factual story. But it still tells a truth. I could throw a maxim at you instead like: things are not always as they appear. But that does not capture the truth in the same way as the story. We relate to the story better. It is richer and fills the multidimensional space of our existence better than a one-dimensional maxim. It feels like something that we have experienced.

Many leading the advance of science across Europe were deep religious thinkers. Their initial instinct to relegate myth to the space between scientific-logical fact led us to the path we are on today. That path sees literal facts as the only vessels for truth. So much so, that we now have religions that think that the only way to value their sacred texts of mythical truths is by claiming that they are literally true.

The past is in the past, and we have inherited the world we have inherited. We are missing out on lots of accumulated wisdom if we simply discard everything that is not literal scientific facts. It is up to us to reclaim the value of myth and transcendence to tell truths that are not captured by empirical formulas. Some may claim that reaching for the mythical is a waste, perhaps even evil. But I know what thoughts wander through this mind of mine, and I can say with confidence that you would not want to know the version of me that does not submit himself regularly to something beyond himself. I do not relish a world where there is no room for transcendence, whether that realm is led by new atheists or fundamentalist creationists.

Photo Credits

Sarek
Birth of Laozi
Phoenix

Other Credits

The title is Sarek from Star Trek's Journey to Babel.
The Taoist Farmer is a traditional tale.
My oversimplified twist on how we got here was heavily influenced by Karen Armstrong's The Case for God.

Touristy Weekends

We have sampled many delights since moving to Yorkshire. These include York Minster with loads amazing features including of intact tombs (in London, if these are present at all, they will have their heads and arms missing). They are restoring the east window, and it is covered at the moment. At first, you think this is a disappointment, but they have this awesome display nearby where they rotate individual backlit glass panels from the window as they are restored and you can see the amazing detail up close. Fantastic opportunity.

Also in York, we saw Holy Trinity Goodramgate, which has intact reformation box pews and a 12th chancel complete with hagioscope. It was declared redundant in 1971.

We visited the ruins of Kirkstall Abbey, which is very close by. It was founded in 1152 and dissolved in 1539.  I am standing next to the pillar: it's big.

And also Brimham Rocks, a moor with interesting rock formations, which is a bit further away.

Photo Credits

York Minster Tomb: Wikipedia

Holy Trinity Interior: The Churches Conservation Trust

Kirkstall Abbey: My Beloved

Brimham Rocks: My Beloved & I