Today whilst undertaking some rather boring admin tasks (and actually wanting to be getting creative in my lovely studio) I am been watching Richard Dawkins 'God Delusion' on More4 - I don't disagree with the principal of challenging world faiths - I think it is healthy to challenge and discuss - and after all faith is exactly that - a faith, a belief in something bigger than ourselves, without scientific proof or evidence.
Religion provides us as humans with the option to make choices, follow our instincts (is there scientific proof for instincts and instinctive feelings? ) and for some people it helps provide a framework, and a code of living - a set of guidelines for living well, loving well and looking after each other. I don't think there is a religion in existence that commands, in a literal sense, that human beings go out and destroy each other - and it is my opinion that religious teaching is about encouraging us and empowering us to make our own choices - and should be analysed in the context of an evolving society and culture. I think most people would agree that fundamentalism and extremism is dangerous to the stability of world harmony no matter if it be Christian, Islamic, or Buddhist (it all exists throughout the world though some examples more often reported than other)
Nor do I disagree with the statement that much of the worlds troubles are founded on religious differences. As a fairly open minded person - open to and actively involved in on going debate about the whys and wherefores of organised religion, and interested in its social and cultural relevance - I am surprised to find myself quite offended by Dawkins haughty and patronising tone. It strikes me that perhaps vehement atheists aren't atheists at all - isn't passionately believing in the NON existence of something the same as fervent faith in the existence something - i.e. God or Gods?
Surely choosing not to believe in anything (as agnostics do, to abstain for a belief in anything) is the most humane way of staying out of the religious debate. ..A passive stance rather than an aggressive one? It seems that his outright decrying of religious faith and scripture is almost as aggressive an act as covering oneself in explosives and blowing up fellow human beings (albeit an emotional rather than physical one - and obviously no deaths involved....)
As someone who works a great deal in a religious environment (when not being crafty and creative in Cornwall) - and a great supporter of the plethora of good things that the world religions encourage and foster (as well as criticiser of the bad) I am really Interested in thoughts - all and any are welcome!
PS - I have absolutely no intention to cause offence here - simply to begin an open minded and healthy discussion about the subject. Please, if you are in anyway upset or angry about anything I have said do not hesitate to get in touch with me or post on the blog and accept my sincere apologies - I would be really interested in your reasons and rationale and hope only to get discussion going which promotes the individuals ability to make their own informed choices about what and why they believe - if they do! I have not included a precis of my own religious beliefs since I had no intention to make this stance a personal argument - more a look at the whys and wherefores of the many and varied beliefs of us all!
Thursday 31 March 2011
Wednesday 16 March 2011
Ma Nature's lyrical
Its been 4 months. I am out of hibernation - the sun is out, the daffodils are blooming, and life is finally starting to feel as I imagined it would as a newly-wedded lady.... only a year later!
I have wanted to post so often over the last months but life, and work, and Christmas, and birthdays and moving house all got in the way.
The idyll of farm life soon faded with the arrival of one of the coldest winters on record, and the novelty of living in a house that was falling down around our ears soon wore off. Night after night the Mr and I would sit, in our three plus jumpers, mittens, scarves, coats and wooly hats, watching each other breath the way we did as children. The fire's heat went out through the single paned glass and the draughty door frames and very often we ended up in bed at 7 - not for newlywed antics - no, because the electric blanket made it the warmest place in the house. We got through 5 series of Battlestar Galactica in about 3 weeks as we watched episodes back to back on the lap top whilst huddling with the dog, who was so unbelievably cold that all of our discipline went out of the window. It's bad enough us electing to live like this, we reasoned, but she hasn't any choice in the matter!
The nights were long and dark and in the end we retreated 'upcountry' for what can only be described as one of the loveliest Christmases ever. The In-Laws house was like a little gingerbread heaven as we approached on the 22nd, fairy lights twinkling, snow on the roof, and the log burner working over time. We were spoilt for nearly two whole weeks and returning to the cold crumbling house in January was a depressing shock to the system.
So we set to with the house hunting! And now we think we've died and gone to heaven. Our new home is in the perfect little village of Cubert, 1 mile from the North coast (Holywell Bay) and about 3 miles West of Newquay. It's high on a hill and visible from miles around - on Monday Mr and I went for a long old walk (mainly because we got a bit lost) but it enabled me to take this picture...
You can see the steeple of St Cubert's Church towards the right hand side ... its a 13 Century building - a little bit worse for wear as many of these places are - but its the heart of the village and I can see it from my front door :-) Being new to the village I though p'raps I ought to pop along on a Sunday just to say hello, and before I knew it I had joined the choir and found myself singing for the Bishop at the St Piran's celebrations the following week! I was so warmly welcomed - and its lovely to be 'plugged in' so soon.
St Piran is not, contrary to popular belief, the patron saint of Cornwall. He is in fact the Patron Saint of Tin Miners - and it is his cross which adorns the Cornish flag (The white represents the streaks of tin in the Cornish rock) Every year the locals of Perranporth (about 5 miles away and the site of St Piran's landing in Cornwall) re-enact the event, which involves St Piran, an Irish Monk, drifting across the sea from Ireland having been saved from drowning by the millstone intended to kill him which had miraculously 'floated' and brought him to Cornwall.
St Piran's Cross which dates from the 9th Century, is decorated with Daffodils as part of this event which includes a big parade of locals across the sand dunes. We missed the event but on our epic walk we found the cross! And very lovely it is too.
And well- that was the day I decided to come out of hibernation - things are looking up - Spring has properly sprung and in ten days time the clocks will change and we'll be well on the way to Summer. I LIVE IN CORNWALL. And it's actually rather lovely! Winter Blues - what are they? Pah! I spit in the face of Winter Blues. I hear Daffodil Yellow is the new blue :-)
As the song goes- 'Ma Nature's lyrical, with her yearly miracle... its spring, spring SPRING!'
I have wanted to post so often over the last months but life, and work, and Christmas, and birthdays and moving house all got in the way.
The idyll of farm life soon faded with the arrival of one of the coldest winters on record, and the novelty of living in a house that was falling down around our ears soon wore off. Night after night the Mr and I would sit, in our three plus jumpers, mittens, scarves, coats and wooly hats, watching each other breath the way we did as children. The fire's heat went out through the single paned glass and the draughty door frames and very often we ended up in bed at 7 - not for newlywed antics - no, because the electric blanket made it the warmest place in the house. We got through 5 series of Battlestar Galactica in about 3 weeks as we watched episodes back to back on the lap top whilst huddling with the dog, who was so unbelievably cold that all of our discipline went out of the window. It's bad enough us electing to live like this, we reasoned, but she hasn't any choice in the matter!
The nights were long and dark and in the end we retreated 'upcountry' for what can only be described as one of the loveliest Christmases ever. The In-Laws house was like a little gingerbread heaven as we approached on the 22nd, fairy lights twinkling, snow on the roof, and the log burner working over time. We were spoilt for nearly two whole weeks and returning to the cold crumbling house in January was a depressing shock to the system.
So we set to with the house hunting! And now we think we've died and gone to heaven. Our new home is in the perfect little village of Cubert, 1 mile from the North coast (Holywell Bay) and about 3 miles West of Newquay. It's high on a hill and visible from miles around - on Monday Mr and I went for a long old walk (mainly because we got a bit lost) but it enabled me to take this picture...
You can see the steeple of St Cubert's Church towards the right hand side ... its a 13 Century building - a little bit worse for wear as many of these places are - but its the heart of the village and I can see it from my front door :-) Being new to the village I though p'raps I ought to pop along on a Sunday just to say hello, and before I knew it I had joined the choir and found myself singing for the Bishop at the St Piran's celebrations the following week! I was so warmly welcomed - and its lovely to be 'plugged in' so soon.
St Piran is not, contrary to popular belief, the patron saint of Cornwall. He is in fact the Patron Saint of Tin Miners - and it is his cross which adorns the Cornish flag (The white represents the streaks of tin in the Cornish rock) Every year the locals of Perranporth (about 5 miles away and the site of St Piran's landing in Cornwall) re-enact the event, which involves St Piran, an Irish Monk, drifting across the sea from Ireland having been saved from drowning by the millstone intended to kill him which had miraculously 'floated' and brought him to Cornwall.
St Piran's Cross which dates from the 9th Century, is decorated with Daffodils as part of this event which includes a big parade of locals across the sand dunes. We missed the event but on our epic walk we found the cross! And very lovely it is too.
And well- that was the day I decided to come out of hibernation - things are looking up - Spring has properly sprung and in ten days time the clocks will change and we'll be well on the way to Summer. I LIVE IN CORNWALL. And it's actually rather lovely! Winter Blues - what are they? Pah! I spit in the face of Winter Blues. I hear Daffodil Yellow is the new blue :-)
As the song goes- 'Ma Nature's lyrical, with her yearly miracle... its spring, spring SPRING!'
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