Wednesday 11 March 2009

Open Day at the Well-being Centre

This morning I went to the Open Day at the Well-being Centre. I cycled there and was about to leave my bike propped up against the wall of the building when a member of staff came out. “It’s ok to leave it here, isn’t it?” I enquired politely, anticipating she would agree it was fine – not in anybody’s way – but no.
“Oh no, someone might walk off with it if you leave it there – bring it inside, it’ll be safer.”
“Oh, no one’s going to steal it” I told her confidently. It’s an old bike, not in the least bit trendy, and as if that isn’t enough to deter a would-be thief, it has a large wire basket on the back, but she wouldn’t have it. Holding the door open wide, she ushered me and the bike inside. Reluctantly, obediently, I wheeled the bike in and flinched at the look another staff member cast my way. The Well-being centre has narrow corridors and with it being an Open Day, it was already heaving at the seams with people.
“Can she leave the bike indoors so it doesn’t get stolen” asked my usher of the other staff member. Inwardly I sighed – it now sounded as though I was the one concerned the bike would be stolen and wanting special attention. They conferred and decided the best place to put it was in the garden – which meant wheeling it all the way through the building, apologising to the people who had to flatten themselves against the walls, and lifting it round sharp corners until it was safely stowed in the garden. It seemed a lot of unnecessary fuss for a rusty bicycle. Besides, if someone stole it, I’d have a good excuse to buy a new one!

I enjoyed the Open Day, especially the drama presentation by Express Yourself. It provided a foretaste of the group I’ll be joining on Fridays.

In the evening I went to the Midweek church meeting, which was on the subject of service. I did my bit by serving teas and coffees. Unfortunately that meant I was close to the bowl of popcorn and large box of After Eights … which proved irresistible. One of my friends came over and we were chatting about how we both need to lose weight, but ironically even in the midst of that conversation my hand was busily conveying popcorn to my mouth. Go figure!

I’d got a lift to the meeting but it was a nice evening and I planned to get a bit of exercise by walking home. I’ve done that before from Midweek meeting and enjoyed the walk. It’s about a mile and three quarters. The road goes down the hill through the Old Dean forest, and at night when all is quiet you can hear the furtive rustling of nocturnal animals going about their business. At the end of the evening as we were saying goodnight to each other, my friend came over and asked how I was getting home. When I explained I was going to walk, she wouldn’t hear of it. In the end rather than argue my case and hold fast to my decision, I submitted to her suggested compromise and accepted a lift to the bottom of the hill then walked home from there. As I was walking I realised that my frame of mind and thoughts were very different to what I’d anticipated. Instead of feeling peaceful and happy and enjoying the experience moment by moment, I was feeling a bit resentful at my friend’s well-meaning intervention. I knew she meant well – I recognised the love and concern behind the words - but her mothering had seemed smothering. She hadn’t been prepared to respect my first choice as it made her feel uncomfortable – how could she have forgiven herself if something had happened to me taking the risk of walking alone past that spooky forest?

I reflected on the day, remembering the similarity of the episode with the bike. I wondered whether this is something I’m inclined to do too - to express concern over the validity of another adult’s choice, and force my own choice upon them as a way of validating my view of myself as a ‘caring person’. I may feel I’m doing the ‘right thing’, showing my love and concern, but I realise now that when you’re on the receiving end, it can feel quite disempowering.

I’ve just finished reading a novel called ‘The Shack’ by William P Young, and one of the themes of the book is free will. It’s one of those books that once you’ve read it, you want everyone you know to read it too. If you’ve ever wondered about the question of how come, if God is a God of love, there is so much suffering in the world, I can heartily recommend you read this book – it may change your mind big time!