A number of years back I did a day's training on supporting people with dementia from a spiritual/chaplaincy perspective, and this was the title of one session.  The idea was that connections can be made, if only temporarily and fleetingly, that bring joy/delight/hope to the person whose life is blighted by the disease.  However, I think as a phrase it also expresses something of the 'present-mindedness' we considered on Sunday.

The phrase 'present moment' as used in Leicestershire equates to the 'just now' of Glasgow or the 'at the minute' of Northamptonshire... it is a slightly woolly/slippery term, but everyone seems to know what it means, that it is more than merely this precise point in human chronology.

The joy of the present moment, then is something about indefatigable positivity in the here-and-now, the meantime now-and-not-yet, in which our lives are so often spent.  The joy of the present moment means not being bound by our past (whether happy nostalgia or bitter regrets) at one extreme nor our future (hopeful ambitions or evasive procrastination) at the other.  Both past and future have a place in our thinking, and each will shape our living, but present-mindedness means most of our energy centres on 'now.'

And so present-mindedness, if joyful, has a 'attitude of gratitude' as I found myself saying on Sunday, that counts its blessings and looks for silver linings without sliding into unhelpful Pollyanna fake-gladness.  Present-mindedness helps put meaning back into waiting time.  Rather than empty time until the thing we are waiting for happens, it is, in and of itself, valuable... whether as time to reflect, time to pray, time to relax or whatever it is.

I'll try to remember that next time I'm stuck in a traffic queue on the motorway, or a medical appointment is delayed by two hours, or the queue in the post office  seems to have ground to a halt...

Today, being my day off and the sun shining, I jumped on a train to Edinburgh.  Once there, and realising how much has been dug up for the ill-fated tram system, I eventually wound up at the castle where my English Heritage card got me in 'free' as part of the reciprocal hoojamaflip.  And so to nostalgia... I think it is forty years since I was inside the castle walls.  A rare trip to visit my grandparents in Glasgow which, so far as I recal,l also included days trips to Blantyre and Dunoon... best revisit them again too!

I can't recall all that much about the last trip to Edinburgh castle, apart from the one o'clock gun.  A memory that is aided I am sure but a now faded black and white polaroid photo taken by my Dad.  I remember seeing soldiers in tartan trews, and am fairly sure that the man who fired the gun wore camouflage combats; failing that it would have been khaki.  I remember the soldiers with very short hair, shiny boots and almost equally shiny faces.  You could get right up to the gun and it was exciting for a child to witness.

Today the gun is in a chained area to keep the public a safe distance away - though one small boy of overseas appearance ducked under two sets of chains to take a photograph causing consternation for the staff.  No mishaps, fortunately, it was still a few minutes to one.  And the soldier came out, loaded and fired the gun, cleaned the breach and posed for photos with the tourists who wasted no time in grasping the arm of one of HM's armed forces.  The soldier, in dress uniform with white gloves and shiny shoes was a woman, about my age, with a rather dishevelled pony tail... I smiled to myself.  A lot has changed in the last forty years.

I wonder if in forty years time a man will scan old photos for his childhood holiday in Scotland and remember ducking under chains to reach the one o'clock gun?  I wonder if he returns in forty years, will the gun still be fired?

A good day, a day of gentle pleasures and happy memories.

There is new bloggy type website of the above name, which has some of the more creative thinkers in BUGB reflecting on the way forward of that expression of Baptistness in Britain.  I chose my words in that sentence carefully!

The Baptist movement in Britain began four hundred years ago, there or there abouts, and anyone who has any connection with Baptists in the East Midlands (which in my view is the cradle of English protestant non-Conformity) will know that 'it all began here' no matter what anyone from elsewhere may claim.  Smyth and Helwys were what came to be termed General Baptists, something glossed over in many tellings of the story, in which the Particulars eventually gained prominence.  All of which if not irrelevant, is not really what this post is about.

As BUGB try to discern their way into the future, the Beyond 400 bloggy thing invokes conversation from men and women, liberal and conservative, young and old and, I am assured, beyond England.  Forty people share their thoughts and via a, so far well used, comment facility (which allow guest comments) some interesting conversations are emerging.

Of course, the fact that one commenter seems to think that BUGB is four hundred years old worries me, especially as they are commenting on a thread with a clear emphasis on the import of knowing and understanding our history (yeay, huzzah) but even the misapprehensions must help in discerning both the present context and the way forward.

Who knows, someone may even finish the research work I started and find a better way of telling the story so that a knowledge of our past will inform our present and shape our future...

And of course, as my congregation are exploring the concept of 'active waiting' and 'spirituality, ministry and mission in the meantime' some comparing and contrasting might be interesting too.

A little You Tube clip for you...

Today we are 'looking upwards' thinking about a 'meantime spirituality' that is helpful.  Such a spirituality, I will assert, embodies or expresses a 'dayeinu' attitude.

The Passover song basically says 'if God had 'x' and no more, that would be have been sufficient' as it works its way through the many things God did do as part of the Passvoer and sojourn in the wilderness.  Some contemporary versions add new verses to bring it up to date.

Question - 'if God had done 'x' and no more' - would that have been enough or would you have felt cheated?

(Note, I am not looking at links with the sufficiency or otherwise of blood sacrifice cf the Cross, this is about OUR attitudes in the everyday, not theologies of atonement)

Possibly another GOW (Grumpy Old Woman) post.

You may recall that last autumn I was invited to be part of a little research project being undertaken by a student of fashion journalism, whereby she was making a short documentary about some of the challenges faced by women who have had surgery to treat breast cancer as we shop on the high street.

That there are specialist suppliers of, for example, mastectomy underwear, is well known, but not everyone has access or to, or can afford, these .  Even for the likes of me, who is happy with online shopping, it's not trivial - imagine if you can having to order on line from 3x2 cm image and not being quite sure what size you are anyway, and then discovering that the cost (even after VAT is deducted as you are exempt if it's official post-surgery underwear) is astronomical.

That the likes of Gok Wan have done some excellent awareness raising work (he has done two 'How to Look Good Naked' with women who'd had mastectomies, one simple, one with a reconstruction the same as mine) but they are not using high street stores or supermarkets.

Imagine you are are woman on a low income, or who has been forced to give up work... designer labels and fancy outlets are beyond your budget.  You need the high street - and the supermarkets - to stock stuff you can wear.

Anyway, this week the little documentary has gone public via You Tube and the producer, Libby Page, a name to look out for in the future, is still knocking on doors of retailers trying to get them to take notice.

On the basis that it's publicly available, and as most of you know what I look and sound like, I've decided to link it form here (I did debate if showing the 'vicars bras' (they aren't on me, no Gok shots!) was TMI but in the end decided well ladies, we all wear them ).  Some great shots of Glasgow city centre and of course Holly revelled in her moment of stardom!

Thanks to Libby to Lynne and Angie, and to the SCAR Project... Oscar speeches yet to be written!

NB The SCAR project images (some in the video) are of naked/topless women who have had mastectomies