Davies and I had an interesting chat the other day about what people believe. He was telling me about a TV programme he’d caught a bit of when we were on the mainland recently. It sounded like either a fanatical religious show or something about conspiracy theories but he said there were some interesting ideas mooted in it.
I don’t have any religious beliefs myself but I have always striven to ensure Davies and Scarlett are above all taught tolerance, respect and acceptance of others beliefs (by example, I don’t set out to ‘teach’ any other way) and given them as many opportunities as possible to learn about other views. We have friends of all different faiths and have always encouraged the children to be curious and interested in different religions, festivals, world views and philosophies.
I may not hold any religious beliefs but that does not mean I do not have a spiritual side and I am often touched by a feeling of being only a tiny wee part of something much bigger and greater and more significant than me, particularly since moving to Rum. I catch myself standing and staring often, seeing the beauty in nature and the world around me.
I recently read something that I wanted to share, written by Lynn R. Miller. I found it so moving and beautiful that I had to read it aloud to Ady. It resonated so clearly with me that I wanted to write it here too.
Farming has always worked best as part craft, part mystery. On our ranch we use an open implement shed to stable my works horses. During the summer months, while I harness my teams of horses, I notice the tops of the stalls lined with barn swallows preening and watching. When I go into the field with a team of horses and an implement, those swallows follow in an undulating scattered cloud. It is bliss to do good work with a gentle contented team of horses on land of increasing fertility and crowned by a bug harvesting halo of happy swallows. As the morning sunlight shimmers off their flitting bird bodies and the pungent odours of field and horses and forage draw me in I know I’m where I’d rather be doing what I’d rather do. I know I’m in my church.