To the EU with love: a different letter

Dear Mr Tusk

I know you will have received a letter from the Prime Minister today. I don't agree with its contents. I do not want to leave the European Union. I note the decision of the referendum, but I do not have to accept it.

I cannot accept it because the decision offers a vision of a way of being in the world that I find incomprehensible. We live in a global world. I live near Holyhead on the Welsh coast. I am a Yorkshireman. Somewhere in my family line, I have Dutch connections, which means I fit in well in Holyhead. The Royal Dutch Navy made Holyhead its home during the Second World War. Local people have Dutch surnames as a result of relationships formed during and after those years. I recognise that the UK did not win that war or the peace afterwards on its own. When I was a child, I believed that my Dad and Uncle won it by themselves, it was the stuff of family yarns. I had to put away these childish notions. Some of those who campaigned for Brexit, not all by any means, but some - and a dominant theme within their campaign was the Britain, usually England, stood alone and could do so again.

I do live on an Island nation. I live near the second busiest port in the UK in terms of freight. We cannot afford a hard or any other form of divorce that complicates our relationships with Ireland.

Of course, many people in Britain feel left behind by the speed of our global world. This is, I imagine, the same throughout the EU. In the UK, we have though developed the knack of blaming our partners in the EU for our failures. In actual fact, you have been more than fair to us and in particular our poorer areas, ensuring their our common wealth is distributed to the poorest areas. This is not something our politicians have done in generations. I apologise for the fact we have blamed you and allowed xenophobia to develop because we have blamed the other over and over again, whoever he or she may be.

My fear is that in these negotiations, divorce proceedings, we will in the UK give a narrative of not wanting to engage, when most of us do in reality. I love Europe. Today for me in Black Arm Band Day.

I can only pray that the decree in Mrs May's letter does not in reality become absolute.

Yours, as ever,

Kevin Ellis

Living in the moment

This is my third Lenten 'Moment' blog, going alongside 'Rooted in' and 'Missing the'.

I am not a fan of just doing it. My introverted thoughtfulness wants some solitude and additional time for thinking before action takes place, but that is the point of attempting to live in the moment. I do not imagine that living in the moment means that you do not pay attention to either prayer or thoughtfulness.

In the building where Julie Moss, myself and countless others learn Welsh, the upstairs has become the Bangor University Centre of Mindfulness. I enquired of my class mates what this was (yn Gymraeg wrth cwrs) what mindfulness actually is. As it was explained to me, I thought that it appears to be akin to what Brother Lawrence was doing centuries ago, and recorded in his Practice of the Presence of God.

Living in the moment is not some frothy living for now, rather it is an awareness of what has gone before, and that there is still much more to come.

Often I look at my hounds to understand what living in the moment is

 and still often I turn to the Scriptures which for me encourage living in the moment, rather than  living for now

reflections not shadows

I have had a rather splendid weekend. I have been at my in-laws Golden Wedding celebrations. I enjoyed it, which for me says a lot given that I am rather cudmugeonly.

I was struck by how old I have become, largely by looking at how much older people looked. Surprisingly, people who were in the 20s and 30s at the Silver Wedding celebrations, which was incidentally the first time I met my future in-laws are in their 40s and 50s. My wife and I will celebrate our Silver Wedding next year.

In one of the rooms there was a laptop with a rolling loop of photographs of their fifty glorious years.

I saw myself at least thrice

At my wedding

At my doctoral graduation

At my ordination as a priest

In each I looked younger. But each was a reflection of me, of part of me.

Lent is a good time to look at our reflections, and be glad that we do not need to live in the shadows.

Missing the Moment

I had occasion to meet up with a bride and groom this week, whose wedding I will be officiating at in May.

Our conversation turned to photographs and wedding photographers. The Bride explained that she just wanted her photographer to take natural snaps, rather than formal ones, because sometimes in creating the perfect picture, we miss the moment.

I have missed so many moments recently. I trust that in Lent, I might slow down enough to live in rather than miss the moment

Rooted in the moment

Lent has started. I tend to be someone who takes too much on or gives too much up.

There is sometimes something to be said for simply being.

This picture is taken in Eastriggs, Scotland. I probably find myself in the village 3 or 4 times each year, and have done so for over a decade. It is the Commonwealth Village. I walk passed these trees on each visit with my dogs. I love the way they have bent to the wind and yet remain sturdy and steadfast. They simply are. I know plant and tree specialists can probably tell me just how much energy it takes for a tree to simply be, for in the being there is thriving.

I hope you will find ways to simply be during Lent.