Monday, December 31, 2007

Hope you like the Video of the Wedding below.

I have posted some of the special moments and many more to come.

Now, at this moment, I am on dial up, and it is many years since I have not used broadband - dial up is a distance experience but great because I can click a few greetings to you.

Joan and I have moved to Salem near Portland in Oregon.
We are staying with Gretchen and Denis - friends from distance past.
The conversations are flowing - we have 20 years to catch up on.
It is a haven of stimulus and reflection.

Denis was the CEO of Romford YMCA before I was. Our lives have touched together on several significant times over many years. Like an Angel he has appeared and the results have led to dramatic life change.
Home change
Community change
Challenge change

The first time was when Joy was a child and I was the leader of a YWCA - leading a project which was a Hells Angels Club.Denis appeared and we ended up moving to work in the YMCA for the first time. The second time was 13 years later when I was working with gangs in East London.
Change - loveitloveit ............

Now I am at their home in a remote location - more birds around than I have ever seen in my life!! It is beautiful ................

I want to wish you all a wondrous day to day
A wondrous entry into a New Year of change and development
(I believe that a place called comfortable is a dangerous place to reside)

So I wish you a Happy New Year and also an uncomfortable one
A restless one
A yearning one
A becoming one
A spiritually restless soul - one

May you discover a button in your 2008 life - a button called::
"Irritation Refresh"

Happy New Year from the USA

You are beautiful ..............


Sunday, December 30, 2007

this is it

the wedding of the year being blasted around the globe

Hi all you wedding guests

Hi you beautifuls in India

Hi Romford humans

Hi you Y humans

It is fantastic to be here in our favourite Diner (the only one I have been to)
We are in the Diner with Mr and Mrs Richard Webber - they are great to be with us on the morning after the wedding - but we may not be seeing them for a long time .....

Enjoy the pix - will be back later with a major batch of Pipturesque .....


Saturday, December 29, 2007

Here we are in Wilsonville, USA.

Only a few other Brits - Mike and Rob from Romford, with his girlfriend Amy from Chicago, and Joan and me.

I am in the local Diner called Canby Pub where I have just waded through Blueberry pancakes for Brunch.

Today is wedding Day for Jen and Richard.
Some pix here from the wedding rehearsal last night. It is all held in a little Wedding Chapel, Elvis stylie, and here you see some of the beautiful humans going through their paces.

Afterwards we went to Webber Mansions for an evening long buffet and a good mingle with all the celebs. Wondrous to meet so many new humans.

We had a private view of the stunning costume which Richard had imported from India. Watch for more pix tomorrow. The Bride and the Groom will both be wondrous in their dress and matched with emotion.

Canby is a small town outside the big city of Portland - NW US.

It is a privilege to be here and, according to the Service programme, be the Godfather!


see you soon I hope.

Hi. I am having to blog from my iPhone as I have been out of wireless range every time I have had my mac. We gave had the wedding rehearsal tonightand now eating at the home of jen. I have just seen Richards Indian suit for the wedding tomorrow.

Big upapology for not blogging but as in airports and planes for 22 hours zzzz

I have some grey pix but will post tomorrownif I can find the Internet.

You are beautiful

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

........ I am back at Wilson Mansions following a great Christmas by the seaside with beautiful humans.

I feel for you.
I am aware not many click this way over Christmas
with all the other beautiful humans around
so appreciate that you did click
and trust you are ok?

I am aware of a number who are having a tough few days/weeks
and a holiday makes things not much better
whatever your circumstances
breathe deep
fill your body with the breath of life ......

This will be my last blog
until I get to the US
switch on the mactop
search for wireless
and start to click in an American accent
(hey dude!)

It may be tomorrow
or the next day
but I will be with you soon
with hot pix from the wedding of the year hey hey

Have a great few days ............... and as the label says
you are beautiful


Tuesday, December 25, 2007

.... we are with Joy and Peter, Barbara his Mother, Joan , Julie Ann and Joan and me ....... a sort of communal Christmas and it is great.

We went to the local church last night - Joan and me. A young Vicar, Reverend Rachel, and she talked about God becoming one of us - just a slob like one of us ....... see and hear my song on my piPod.

I like this space ........ and in the morrow we go home, pack for USA, and then we fly 27/12 .... ..

Happy Christmas
every beautiful human

I am just about to dive into breakfast of blueberry pancakes and champagne ........ bye

Monday, December 24, 2007

........ The Sheilas on Christmas Day last year .......... and Joan and me are off .......

We wish you a wondrous Christmas full of beautiful moments.
May you enjoy presents and presence.
May you enjoy the superficial, deep, relational, food, fun, children in amazement.
May you consider personal steps into new and exciting places all because of this special holiday full of meaning beyond all expectations.. ... ... ..............

Shalom be with you ...........


Sunday, December 23, 2007

Zig wouldn't go to bed last night.

I was tired and ready
he decided to hide under the mini-trampoline I have in my office
and then on the widow ledge
- un-grab-able

I gave up and picked up a book,
one of a dozen which I am reading.

Viktor Frankl 'Man's Search for Meaning'
I have been reading this one since 7/7 this year -
because I always write in the margins I know
I was on a train travelling to Big John Mansions in Newcastle.

Viktor was a professor in neurology and psychiatry until he died in 1997
He spent some horror years in Dachau and other concentration camps.
This is his is story of a struggle to survive.

As Zig run around freely - I read
"... everything can be taken from a man but one thing,
the last of the human freedoms -
to chose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances
to chose one's own way."
My margin says 'WOW'

Locked away
ill health
sleeping with the dead
extermination chambers smoking
the stench of death
and yet
he says these words ...................

In my training sessions I strive to facilitate
human awareness and skill
to be able to not be controlled
by inner 'shoulds' and 'aughts'
by inner 'feelings'
but being able to decide how to behave
in normal life
not a concentration camp.

I forgot about Zig
he settled on the rug in front of the fire
and my mind spins away .........

This is a sort of freedom
all about
being free in any circumstance

about the wholistic
about the reason why God poured his love in a human frame
about stupid ridicules faith
about a baby coming to be called Emmanuel
God with us
as a babe
as human person
as God .............
Shalom which passes all understanding .......


What an aim for 2008
to become


. I picked him up
kissed him placed him in his cat-bed
and I felt fee to sleep ....................

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Through acts of sharing
we know
and we are known.

Level Five Communication
Opening ..............

It is like sharing Christmas gifts.
Sharing self is the greatest gift to share
I feel it is a privilege when someone shares L5 with me.

What if you receive a Christmas present
beautifully packaged
bright coloured paper
"To you - from ......."

What if it remains unopened?

If someone shares self with us
Level Five
and we don't feel it
and we don't open it - open to it ........

Communication fails
the breath of life
the oxygen of life

Relationships cannot exist without communication
exchanging gifts
otherwise become a
human loner
and a
human loner
does not exist.

The smallest presents are the best
the first Christmas present

What if that present

Friday, December 21, 2007

My life has been different
It is always different
but this is different.

I have been on unfocused lock-down
I am in drift
finished with the antibiotics
but not the cough

I do things without my two key words
strategic and priority

I have been clearing the decks
finding bits all over the place
(All over the place - that's my head at the moment)

I find lots of bits of paper with
notes to self
2 do's

One today
"touching humans"
about how I touch humans
some warm
some stiff
some rigid
some recoil
some "I love a massage"

One young beautiful human
used to be stiff rigid recoil
but now she says
"You have not massaged me today"
(I only do a one minute job as humans sit at their desks)
"How come?" Pip speak, "you don't like anyone touching you but you are up for a massage?"
"Well - you are Pip"

Nice that init?

Skin Hunger
I believe in
We would rather be slapped than ignored
I Love touching finger tips with you
Love the freedom
when right
to hug

Reach out and touch ..................

I caught a programme late on TV this week called
'Cut-up kids'
about young humans
about self harm.

I have learned a lot from young humans regarding this
I have journeyed through with them
some savage
some silently secret.

There is a massive issue in how it all connects with emotions.
It one of my major interests and drives
how to understand the impact of the interior life
how it impacts on the exterior behaviour.
Saying "Just pull yourself together"
is not only not good enough
it is insensitive and oppressive.

There is a real inner 'emotional deprivation' here
which creates some massive
lack of self esteem
and lack of confidence.

Here is a poem written by a beautiful young human.
She read it out at a group work session I was leading
the discussion that followed was 'electric' .................


She'll try
To take
She knows me
My little weak head
At the end of every beautiful thought
She'll smash it with a
One I dread
And smothered
I'll fight
I'll fight
In circles I run
Till I'm twisted and lost in her games
Her fun
And to ignore she
Her anger bleeds
And feeds
See and feel me
Till I walk in peace
But for how long?
I wish a day or two
But you
Won't let me be
Won't let me love
Or love me
And maybe
Because they
In their greed
And couldn't love me
You did
You did
For a while
Nursed me from every wound
Every tear
Bounced back from black rejection
Here now
I've outgrown you
Who you are
I don't know
Just leave
Please please
Let me go


Thursday, December 20, 2007

THERE was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid.
He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen.
On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.

There were other things in the stocking, nuts and oranges and a toy engine, and chocolate almonds and a clockwork mouse, but the Rabbit was quite the best of all. For at least two hours the Boy loved him, and then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner, and there was a great rustling of tissue paper and unwrapping of parcels, and in the excitement of looking at all the new presents the Velveteen Rabbit was forgotten.

Christmas Morning
For a long time he lived in the toy cupboard or on the nursery floor, and no one thought very much about him. He was naturally shy, and being only made of velveteen, some of the more expensive toys quite snubbed him. The mechanical toys were very superior, and looked down upon every one else; they were full of modern ideas, and pretended they were real. The model boat, who had lived through two seasons and lost most of his paint, caught the tone from them and never missed an opportunity of referring to his rigging in technical terms. The Rabbit could not claim to be a model of anything, for he didn't know that real rabbits existed; he thought they were all stuffed with sawdust like himself, and he understood that sawdust was quite out-of-date and should never be mentioned in modern circles. Even Timothy, the jointed wooden lion, who was made by the disabled soldiers, and should have had broader views, put on airs and pretended he was connected with Government. Between them all the poor little Rabbit was made to feel himself very insignificant and commonplace, and the only person who was kind to him at all was the Skin Horse.

The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

"What is REAL?"
asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room.
"Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse.
"It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.
"When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse.
"You become.
It takes a long time.
That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily,
or have sharp edges,
or who have to be carefully kept.
Generally, by the time you are Real,
most of your hair has been loved off,
and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.
But these things don't matter at all,
because once you are Real
you can't be ugly,
except to people who don't understand."

..... you are beautiful ................


Wednesday, December 19, 2007

let us ask God for a good Christmas::
that no powerful nation
should tax the poor
or uproot them;


that no unmarried mother
should be put away in disgrace;


that no door will be shut
on those that need to find it open;


that shepherds and sheep and all of nature
need not be afraid;


that walls, barbed wire and angry soldiers
may not be found in Bethlehem;


that wise men and wise women
might appear
in Iraq,
in Afghanistan,
in Africa,
in homeless hostels

in my town
that children may be preserved
from those who would abuse them;


that this Christmas,
worship may become a manger
and that your home become a stable
and the rumour become a reality
that Christ has come among us.