ISSUE 6 // JUNE 2021 . comfort . It's curious how certain poems, songs, artworks and stories can captivate us in different seasons of our lives. How they seem to transcend time and space to bring us their fresh wisdom - their truthfulness, resonance, and comfort. "My own heart let me more have pity on" is just such a poem for me. It was written more than a hundred years ago by the English poet and Jesuit priest Gerard Manley Hopkins. I have treasured his poems ever since I came across them in my mum's library when I was a teenager. What makes them so enduringly beautiful and unusual? It's his use of lush and earthy imagery, words strung together with masterful sprung rhythm that feels both ancient and modern, and a sense of spirituality that evokes wonder for God and the natural world. It reads: My own heart let me more have pity on; let Me live to my sad self hereafter kind, Charitable; not live this tormented mind With this tormented mind tormenting yet. I cast for comfort I can no more get By groping round my comfortless, than blind Eyes in their dark can day or thirst can find Thirst's all-in-all in all a world of wet. Soul, self; come, poor Jackself, I do advise You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile 's not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather — as skies Betweenpie mountains — lights a lovely mile. I rediscovered this sonnet about a year ago when I was feeling particularly low and downcast - in the middle of winter and a state-wide lockdown - and in need of some poetic pick-me-up. So many of the lines resonated with what I was experiencing at the time. I have returned and read it so many times that I can see the words floating in mind when I have trouble falling asleep, and recite them noiselessly. My own heart let me more have pity on; let Me live to my sad self hereafter kind Charitable; not live this tormented mind With this tormented mind tormenting yet. It reads like a psalm to me, a prayerful lament that acknowledges the complexity of being human through challenging seasons of life. The way in which we can hold sadness, anxiety, overwhelm, despondency, petition, faith, thanksgiving, beauty and hope together at the same time. I cast for comfort I can no more get By groping round my comfortless, than blind Eyes in their dark can day or thirst can find Thirst's all-in-all in all a world of wet. Surely we can all relate to that "sad self" with a "tormented mind, tormenting yet"? The way our worries can encircle us, how grief can press on us so heavily that we don't feel as if we can see clearly, or satiate our needs. And rather than push our true feelings and difficulties away - Hopkins reminds us to speak them. To tell what is on our hearts and minds, to a God who loves us, "whose smile's not wrung" and who sees us. "Soul, self; come, poor Jackself, I do advise You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size I love the image of "leaving comfort root-room" as we might give plant that has outgrown it's pot. We are trusting, hoping, that comfort can grow once more when we make space for it - when we surrender to the reality that things are never static, that change will come. At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile 's not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather — as skies Betweenpie mountains — lights a lovely mile. Those shadowy, "unforeseen times" - are times like these. Life-threatening viruses and debilitating illnesses. Devastating storms, floods and fires. Political division and unrest. Months of lockdown, postponed plans and uncertainty about what's ahead. And yet, like the darkened valley between two mountains - they are not the whole landscape. They are not the whole picture of us, our world, our stories, and our future. I wonder how you are going this week. How is your heart and mind? What is the world like outside your window today? Is there a song, or poem, or scripture, or story or posture bringing you consolation in this season? I'd love to hear it. Emily x . to contemplate . - Re-read Gerard Manley Hopkins poem "My own heart let me more have pity on" and sit with it. He said his poems were written to be read aloud - so you might like to try it reading out. Do any of the lines stand out to you? Are there particular words, sounds, or feelings they conjure in you? - Try a standing meditation. Start by standing straight with your knees slightly relaxed and your arms beside you. Take three slow breaths in and out. Bring to mind Hopkins advice to " call off thoughts awhile" and "leave comfort root-room". Close your eyes and rather than focus on the many thoughts that are coming in and out of mind, notice how your feet are feeling against the floor. Then imagine the fine strands of tree roots growing out from the soles of your feet - branching out and networking, growing deeper into the ground below you. Take a few minutes here if it's comfortable, before opening your eyes and stretching your arms up above you. Allow yourself to take three more deep breaths in and out - giving an audible "sigh" as you exhale. - Contemplate these verses in Proverbs 3: Blessed are those who find wisdom, those who gain understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are pleasant ways, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her; those who hold her fast will be blessed. By wisdom the Lord laid the earth’s foundations, by understanding he set the heavens in place; by his knowledge the watery depths were divided, and the clouds let drop the dew. - Consider these musings of Madeleine L'Engle from her book "Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art": "Jesus was not a theologian, he was God who told stories... Stories, no matter how simple, can be vehicles of truth; can be, in fact, icons. It's no coincidence that Jesus taught almost entirely by telling stories, simple stories dealing with the stuff of life familiar to the Jews of his day. Stories are able to help us to become more whole, to become Named. And Naming is one of the impulses behind all art; to give a name to the cosmos, we see despite all the chaos..." ​ . from the recipe book . Banana, Coconut + Raspberry Bread 125 butter, softened 1 cup brown sugar // OR 1 cup honey or maple syrup 2 ripe bananas 4 eggs 1/4 cup olive oil 3/4 cup rice flour + 3/4 tapioca starch // OR 1 + 1/2 cups GF plain flour mix ​1/2 cup coconut flour // OR desiccated coconut for a rougher texture 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg 2 teaspoons GF baking powder 1 cup frozen raspberries // OR berries of your choice // OR 100g chopped dark chocolate (Makes 1 large loaf) ​ In a large bowl or mixer cream together butter and sugar - followed by mashed bananas, eggs and olive oil. Mix in flours, spices and baking powder. It should be a thick batter consistency. Finally gently stir in raspberries. Pour mixture into a high-sided loaf tin that has been well-greased (or lined with baking paper - I usually just squash a rectangle of baking paper into the tin) and make in a moderate oven at 180'c for 45 mins - 1 hour. It will be ready once a skewer or knife inserted into the centre of the bread comes out clean. ​ GF Anzacs with a twist 2 cups quinoa flakes 1 cup puffed amaranth 1 cup desiccated coconut zest of 1 orange 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1 cup GF plain four // OR 1/2 cup each rice flour and tapioca starch 1 cup brown sugar 1/2 cup honey 200g butter 1 1/2 teaspoon baking soda Preheat moderate oven to 180'c. Place quinoa, amaranth, coconut, flour, zest, cinnamon, flour and brown sugar in a large bowl. Meanwhile heat the butter and honey in a saucepan over a low heat until the butter is melted. Remove from the heat and stir in bicarb soda (it will fizz up a bit) - tip wet mixture into the dry ingredients and stir to combine. Shape a heaped tablespoon of mixture into paper-lined oven trays (I ended up with four trays of cookies). Use a fork to flatten the tops and bake for 12-15 minutes until golden. Cool and store in an airtight container - they last ages! . On the blog . tempest It's school pick up time on Wednesday when the rain... Read More june days Early June is quiet and... Read More Two Red Recipes Rhubarb + Strawberry JamThis is my favourite kind of jam. I love... Read More a week of me-made Me Made May is a month-long festival of people wearing their handmade clothes.... Read More Down by the river no boys playing, banks submerged with rain - everything rushing, gushing, gurgling, sodden and soaking, debris caught and foaming. I watch the water mesmerised, it's a funny kind of sympathy she reflecting me: that spilling out, forcefully, an overflow of feelings days of rain and howling winds bring - of wondering, half-sleeping, and weeks of lockdown and isolation familiar paths, unsettling us again and again. I'm a mess of worry and relief we know we're the lucky ones with animals safe, with house in tact that's dry and warm - spirit within us, hovering, rest and disturbance. Down by the river I'm a woman lingering, listening to the flow - birds are singing, darting in the trees and on my face blessed sun, shining. Missed issue 4? Click here to read ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌   ‌