I haven’t written anything for a while now. It’s not that I’ve nothing to say, more that I can’t quite find the way to say it. There’s an unease stalking the world, and competing forces are pulling me in opposite directions. “Let it go, retreat into the present, be thankful, get on with doing things that give meaning to your life” says one little voice. But there’s another voice, whispering indistinctly, with vague snatches of phrases that seem to make sense, but only just, and only for moments. “There’s something wrong, something bad, you need to tell people - write it down, before writing it becomes illegal, send it out, before sending it becomes illegal, think it through, before even thinking it becomes illegal.”
I circle around to the books that seem most to give me a handle on the way things are; I pick up one and then immediately pick up another. Perhaps this one, or that one, that I’ve read before, will give me some fresh insight that makes it all make sense, and resolves the unease I feel.
But this too is a phantom, the elusive Answer slipping through my grasp.
Doom and gloom abound in the chatter in the public square. Not without reason - many predictions came true, and continue to come true. How does it help to reiterate the ‘told you so’ with yet another article? I read or wrote the warnings about mis-information , digital ID, WHO regulations, the lack of mea-culpa for vaccines and lockdowns, the attack on freedoms, the assaults on dignity. What does it help to keep doing that? Whom will I convince, what tide will I turn?
I skim past new articles on these old themes now. I’ve made up my mind, so getting fresh details on known atrocities doesn’t add to my arsenal. And I’m not inclined to go on the attack anyway, to pummel a mask-lover with some fresh set of findings.
But this feeling doesn’t go away. It comes back when I hear those close to me echo a propaganda line, as if it’s their own. “Bird flu is becoming a real problem.” It comes back when I see a headline “Masks saved thousands.” It comes back when a neighbour met on the beach after a week of storms comments on the especially high tides “It’s gotta be climate change.” It comes back when, with the sound turned down, a ‘Welcome to Country’ looks anything but welcoming.
We’re being pushed and pummelled and prodded by myriad different forces. Not all of them, I suppose, are rent-seeking con artists. But it’s hard to tell which.
It feels like the battle is almost lost, and it’s time to circle the wagons, what’s left of them. Which brings me to my latest project.
An abbey. A sanctuary. A place to stay for a long time, or a short time. A place to visit. Somewhere to eat. Somewhere to grow, food and spirit. Somewhere to pray, and work. Ora et Labora. Away from the world, but in the world. Down by the coast, but away from the coast. Among travellers, among pilgrims. A state of grace, in a State made bankrupt.
Would you come? Would you stay for a night, or for a week? Would you eat at a Shared Table, and help with the chores in the garden, and tend the beehives, and feed the chickens?
For me the question is “Would I ever leave?”
Unfortunately I still pay my mortgage and feed my children with the money earned from an employer who was responsible for committing unspeakable atrocities against ordinary human beings during those dark days of Covid policy. I fought as best I could to ask questions, change minds, and draw attention to the complete idiocy of it all, but it wasn’t enough to open their eyes or make any real difference. BUT retirement is edging closer every single day… and when it finally arrives, I would run straight to this sanctuary described by you, and nope, I don’t think I’d ever leave either 🙏
This is quite poetic, Richard, as you explain the unease that is just under the surface for those of paying attention. Your retreat sounds nice. I'd love to visit. I agree with Jillian that "as Christians we cannot retreat from the world unless we really know God is calling us to that life." So I try to connect with nature in a garden, in the mountains, on a beach, and still my thoughts and calm my soul, and then head back to whatever work is before me. Wishing you peace, strength, and hope.