Writer's Block

My stay on Priest Garth Farm has been wonderful. I'm really enjoying the Gibson family. John is witty and punny. He just completed the Coast to Coast walk across the width of the England last month, and we've had lots to talk about concerning long walks, pilgrimages, and retreats. He's pretty excited to hear about my time on Iona. His wife Eileen, is a fabulous cook, and as I've learned, doesn't like to deal with leftovers. Consequently, John and I get to finish the main course off every night. And, she makes a pudding every night (British for dessert), which I don't have the 'moral fiber,' as John calls it, to turn down. I haven't had to leave the top button of my pants undone yet, wish me luck! Their daughter Ruth has two sons and lives on the other side of the village, which is approximately 100 meters away. That, perhaps, gives you somewhat of an idea of the size of Gillamoor. She's in charge of the poultry on the farm, chicken and ducks, whose numbers seem to grow daily because those pesky chickens like to lay their eggs in secretive spots, which we don't discover until new chicks are walking about. Just this morning I discovered two brand new chicks who are still cute, which means they're not very old yet. Ruth often does the morning milking, but also tutors  rich foreigners in English over in York (about 45 minutes away), so I haven't seen much of her lately. Rachel, the younger daughter who is about my age, lives here on the farm with her husband, Russell. They're living the 'simple life' out behind the big tractor shed, which means they're gleefully living in two small, glorified sheds fitted out as a kitchen/living room and bedroom. Rachel and I get on quite well, and it's usually the two of us who do the afternoon milking chores. One of the first things she asked me when I first came to the farm was whether I'm a Harry Potter fan or not, and if I wanted to go see the premiere for the last movie with her and Ruth.

My tasks over the last two and a half weeks have been diverse, enjoyable, and instructive. I'll save those descriptions for another day.

But the reason for my long silence upon arriving on the farm has been writer's block. (That, and I simply don't have much spare time) I've sat down at least four times over the last two weeks to try to write a blog entry. This is a writer's block I've come to recognize as being two-fold: I'd stare at the computer screen and the words just wouldn't come. But in the greater scheme of things, I was also experiencing a sort of 'writer's block' with God. For the first couple weeks on the farm, I really struggled to see God at work in me and around me.The far-too-familiar "should" voice in my head condemned me for not staying up to speed with the things I thought I should be doing: "You should read your Bible more, like you told everyone. You should blog more so people know how you're doing. You should wake up earlier and go for a jog. You should..." Consequently, I passed my first weeks here tied up in knots because I couldn't live up to my own expectations. I took off for this summer adventure wanting to hear from God in some sort of revelatory way. I wanted that spark of intimacy that I've experienced so incredibly in the past to be rekindled.  But all I kept hearing was those shoulds.

I took off last weekend for four-days of traveling to York and the Lake District. I'd decided to come to North Yorkshire primarily for its proximity to the Lake District, a place I'd heard about from other travelers and seen in movies. I left in a state spiritual angst: my body was well-rested and content and I was having a great time with the Gibsons, but I was so frustrated with God. It was through wandering through the ancient city of York, climbing stone staircases built into steep mountainsides, sampling some of the Lake District's best micro brews, and figuring out the bus system in a rural tourist area that I remembered again the pure joy I get from traveling. Stepping out on my own for those few days freed me from all those things I thought I should be doing.

Here's what I think: God was feeling so very distant and silent because I got so caught up in the cycle of what I thought I should be doing, then failing, then feeling bad about it. When I stepped away from that cycle by literally leaving the farm for the weekend, I cut myself a break. The freedom was so liberating! What I realize is that while these individual things I'm driving myself to do are inherently good, like reading my Bible more regularly or not having seconds on pudding, I lose sight of the ultimate goal. Interestingly, a Bible verse I read last night simplified this sentiment beautifully:
"For you alone, O God, my soul waits in silence, from you comes my salvation." Psalm 62:1
So the question remains, how can I allow my soul to wait in silence? How do I balance the things I need to do with those I think I should? How do I keep the "should voice" at bay whilst on the farm? And this question begs an even bigger question, of course: how do I replicate this at home?