Some days, things just don’t turn out the way you expected.

Yesterday I was heading for a day of meetings in Melbourne. It happens every couple of months, and as usual I booked the early morning flight across, and an evening flight home again.

At 6.15am, the normal boarding time for my flight, airline staff announced that Melbourne airport was fog-bound and we’d be delaying the flight a little while.  At about 7am they got us up and moving and on-board.  Unfortunately in the 45 minutes that had passed, fog had drifted in over Launceston airport as well.

We ran up and down the runway a couple of times, and the movement of air must have caused the fog to lift or dissipate just enough….so at about 7.30 we took off, on a 50 minute flight to the north island.

30 minutes into that flight, somewhere over Bass Strait the pilot announced that Melbourne was still fog-bound, so we’d be circling for a while until it cleared.  Nearly an hour later nothing had changed in Melbourne, but the fog had descended over Launceston again. We were stuck in the middle, unable to go forward, unable to return. And presumably without enough fuel to keep circling until something changed.

So we went sideways, heading west to land at Adelaide a little after 10am.  Definitely not what I had planned for the day.   People on board the plane reacted differently. Some were anxious, others confused, some unfussed, and others angry at this unexpected detour and delay.

Isn’t that just the way things go sometimes?  We set out on a journey, a path, seeking an opportunity, having a plan, expecting a particular outcome…..only to be run over by circumstances and end up somewhere quite unexpected?

Lots of people I’ve encountered when we talk about the need for change (particularly in the church) say “we’re ready for change, just tell us what we’ll be changing too”.  One of the challenges of this time in our culture is that we’re deep into what the experts called “discontinuous change” – a time when things are changing so much and so rapidly, that its difficult to see what comes next.

How do we build within our communities the capacity to set out on a journey, to chart a course of change, but to be able to cope with the fact that things might go wrong along the way? That we might find ourselves stuck in the middle, unable to go forward, but not able to return?  Ready for the possibility that we might have to turn sideways (and end up in Adelaide)?

Flexibility, resilience and creativity would seem to me to be the key. Building those characteristics into a community perhaps one of the most important tasks of our day.

I landed in Adelaide resigned to a pointless and boring day of sitting around airports – knowing that by the time I eventually reached Melbourne I would miss my meetings and be once more sitting idly, waiting for my evening flight back to Launceston.  Then as I stood in the queue to pass through airport security I was tapped on the shoulder by a friend I don’t see very often, stuck in the same situation as me.

Somewhere over the next hour or so, as we sat in a coffee shop in Adelaide airport, we had the opportunity for an unplanned but important conversation we otherwise would not have had….and I remembered that old saying about clouds and silver linings.

Perhaps the unexpected is not such a bad outcome after all.

Perhaps it’s the unplanned detours that give life its colour and texture

Yesterday I missed an opportunity.

The South Esk River was thundering through Launceston’s Cataract Gorge – the first time this wet season that Trevallyn Dam had overflowed and the river run freely.

As I cross the bridge at the entrance to the Gorge I thought for a moment about parking the car and taking the tribe for a walk up the Gorge to see it in all its glory.  But time and tiredness got the better of me, so we continued home for bath and dinner, thinking “we’ll go see it tomorrow”.

Tomorrow came, and the river level has dropped.  The opportunity is gone.

It got me thinking, how often do we miss out on opportunities because we’re not quite game to act immediately? to respond when the moment is revealed?  To “seize the day” as that famed ’80’s film Dead Poets Society popularized.

In this case, I’ll be able to wait a few weeks, maybe a couple of months, or at worst the next big wet season to catch the Gorge in full flow…..but what if I’d missed a unique opportunity? A once-in-a-lifetime chance?

When did you last seize the day?  Make a snap decision? Take a chance that might not be presented again?

For some unimaginable reason, at the ripe old age of 37 I decided to take up playing basketball.   It’s a strange choice to make, having never played before, but I knew some guys that were playing, and I needed the exercise, so…..why not?  Now mid-way through my second season I’m still feeling very much a rookie, and trying to figure out the skills that the guys half my age who I play with and against take for granted.

On Saturday night something very small, but very significant happened.  Not only did we win (a minor miracle in itself), but in the midst of the hustle and bustle inside the key (a very busy place indeed, and where I spend most of my time as one of my team’s two “bigs”) I found myself with the ball in hand, and for the first time with the tiniest bit of mental space to think consciously about what to do with it.

Until now, when I get the ball in my possession I’m all about getting rid of it as fast as possible – whatever first opportunity presents to pass or shoot, I take.  No thinking, no weighing up options, just react.

On this occasion however, as the ball landed in my hands and I looked up to see a wall of opposition players in front of me, I ran through the basketball players classic three options – pass, shoot or dribble. Somehow there was the brain space to make a conscious choice to drive and shoot based on the options available. It was brain space I’ve not had on a basketball court before.  I reveled in the moment, and then executed my choice.  Naturally,  I still missed the shot! Continue reading →

Last night I sat up ridiculously late watching the Paris-Roubaix cycling classic.  It’s a one day race that stands at the very top of the “must win” list for professional cyclists.  Within cycling circles it’s sometimes known as the “Queen of the Classics” and sometimes “The Hell of the North”.  Cyclists in the 2010 Paris-Roubaix covered 259 kilometres over the day, which for a pro cyclist is a reasonable day’s work.

One of the things that makes Paris-Roubaix so different to many other races, and so sought after is that the course of the race covers long stretches of road paved with cobblestones. Cobblestones that have been in place since the days of the Roman empire – when many of the road were built.

Cobblestones that are rough, uneven, broken, and bone-jarring.

Cobblestones that damage body and bike alike.

Paris-Roubaix doesn’t just include a couple of short sections for the sake of tradition.  This year’s course covered 27 different sections totalling 52.9km of cobblestones.  52.9km! Continue reading →

This past weekend I had the very good fortune to spend time as a guest at the Glenorchy Uniting Church annual church camp.  Held at Blue Lagoon (in Hobart’s Dodges Ferry), the camp reminded me of all the things I love about church camp.  Read on for my top five, and add your own… Continue reading →

One of the interesting things about going around a place like Barnbougle (or any golf course you care to name) is that there are golfers of all standards out and about.

There are the hacks like me, who play a couple of times a year, enjoy the game a great deal, but never really know where the ball will go when it is hit.

There are the regular club guys and gals, who work hard at their game, play regularly, and reach a standard of proficiency or at least consistency.  Playing once or twice a week matters in any sport, but particularly in golf.

And then there are the guns, those for whom excellence in golf is a passion (or even a job). Who love being challenged by the course, and love to push back, trying to beat the designer, the pin placement, the weather….and optimally, the “par” score.  All are welcome.

There are those who head to the course with the latest and greatest equipment. Titanium headed drivers, stunningly machined irons, stylish clothing, massive luxury golf bags with all kinds of features I didn’t know exist. Perhaps even golf balls that at a price will help you hit longer, straighter, more accurately and with more spin (if you believe the marketing material!).  And there are those who head to the course with a cheap set of 20 year old clubs, old scuffed balls and whatever other equipment can be pressed into service.  All are welcome.

A good course has features that challenge players at all levels. Maybe the fairway is wide and flat closer to the tee, giving the shorter hitters the chance of finding the fairway, while it tightens up further down, or includes strategically placed fairway bunkers to stretch the more capable among us.  Maybe the green is big, so that those of us a little less accurate can simply focus on making the green, while a tough pin placement pushes the better players to fly in over a bunker to get really close.  All are welcome.

Those who are members of a golf club also know that there are systems to enable everybody to compete on an even footing. The handicap ranking allows those who usually shoot 100 to compete with those going around in 90, 80 or even 70.  If you play a little better than your normal standard, going around in a few shots less than your average, you can take a win even over those who shoot less than you.  That’s the golf handicap system.  All are welcome.

Golf has something for everybody.  All are welcome at its table.

Or are they…?

Golf anywhere costs.  At Barnbougle, one of the worlds best golf courses, a game costs enough to make it perhaps a once a year deal for me.  At my local course I can play for around $25.  That makes it affordable for me to play when I have the time….but for some that too is beyond reach.  An annual membership in a local might by $500 or more (sometimes a whole lot more).  So while all are welcome, golf is not accessible to everybody.

And like any sport, there are customs and culture. There are dress standards, behaviour, golfers ‘etiquette’.  And so, while all are welcome, there is a sense in which they are only welcome if they abide by the expectations of the golfing community.  To the outsider, some of these seem reasonable, some bizarre. Some are only known to the insider.

When I was growing up I played more frequently, and one of the unspoken rules was to do with the wearing of hats indoors in the club house.  If you were found wearing a hat, you were expected to shout all at the bar a round of drinks.  No kidding!  Those kind of unspoken rules and expectations set up a strong insider/outsider feeling.

So I get to wondering how other aspects of our community life compare with golf.  Where all are welcome, but with conditions.  With limitations.  When you think about it, about sports, hobbies, social groups you might be involved in, its not at all unusual.

And I find myself thinking particularly about the church.  We say we are a community open to all.  Where all are welcome.  Where young and old, male and female, rich and poor, healthy and sick can exist side by side, in a kind of utopian community.  We make all sorts of claims about being open, friendly, welcoming and committed to hospitality.

How much of that is true? If a homeless person walked into your church community, a week since the last shower…how welcome would they be?  If someone with mental health issues, or someone who speaks with language some might find offensive…?  Or even someone who fits all the stereotypes, but doesn’t get the unspoken rules and behaviours?

I went to a church service on Sunday, and tried to take an outsiders perspective. It’s a weird experience. People stand up and sit down for no apparent reason. Pray together using words that are not printed anywhere.  And they sing communally….not an experience common for many in the wider community.  The notice sheet announced a midweek bible study open to all, and held at “Ruth’s House”.  Who is Ruth? Where does she live? Who do I talk to if I want to know more information?

These things are important, and bring meaning for many inside the church. But in small ways, subtle ways, unspoken ways…..they reinforce an insider/outsider perspective.

What would a faith community look like if it were truly welcoming to all? If it were designed from the ground up as an open learning space?  If all were truly welcome at its table?

Lessons from the golf course is a continuing series of reflections

When ambition overcomes skill....there is trouble!

I enjoy greatly the opportunity to wander the golf course, but the truth is I am a very average golfer.

I tend to hit from the rough more than the fairway, and have become quite familiar with the insides of bunkers on most courses I play. I’ve also donated quite a few golf balls to the ongoing experiment taking place at the bottom of water hazards everywhere to see if they are biodegradable.

So I enjoy it, but I’m not that good.

My brother on the other hand, is very good. He teaches people to play, and knocks around in PGA tournaments around Australia.

So the opportunity to play with Matt at Barnbougle Dunes recently was a great day for many reasons.  Firstly, a day out with my brother who lives at the other end of the country.  Nice.

Secondly, the chance to play the stunning course and measure myself against its various challenges.  Excellent.

And thirdly, or so I though, some free tips on how to correct my slice and solve my putting blues. Priceless.

As we wandered the fairways and searched innumerable sand dunes looking for errant tee shots, Matt instead gave me something much more valuable – a lesson in managing my way around the golf course. Continue reading →

It takes a special kind of vision, a special kind of imagination.

A few years ago, golfing “tragic” Greg Ramsay got together with Bridport farmer & entrepreneur Richard Sattler.  The two looked at a wild north-west coastal area of sand dunes, swamp, and grassland and somehow saw in it a world class golf course.

Even more amazing is that Sattler, the farmer on whose land Barnbougle Dunes now lies  is said to have had very little previous exposure to golf.  Still, the two together walked the land and as Ramsay encouraged Sattler, the imagined golfers from all over the world gathering together in this remote location to tackle what right from the beginning was envisaged as one of the world’s best golf courses.

As I wrote previously, the result is nothing short of astonishing and the reality now lives up, in every way, to the scene imagined several years ago. Continue reading →

I’m just back at work after a couple of  weeks holidays.  A small part of my holiday was spent on and around the golf course. I’m a strictly amateur hacker, but very much enjoyed the chance to chase that little white ball around.

My first golfing experience during the break took place at the incomparable Barnbougle Dunes, on Tasmania’s north-east coastline.  Barnbougle is set into the coastal dunes overlooking bass straight. It’s a stunning golf course, rated #3 in Australia, and #35 in the world’s rankings of best golf courses.  For golfers, even hacks like me, it’s a special place, and one that I have been looking forward to for a long time.

One of the features that makes Barnbougle so special, is the way it fits perfectly into its environment.  This is not a resort style golf course, with artificial waterways, perfectly manicured bunkers, and lush iridescent green grass.

Instead, the course winds its way through the dune system behind the beach, using native grasses, local sand and the natural obstacles present in this beautiful wilderness environment.

Certainly the course designers have done some earthworks, brought in top soil, and carefully crafted greens and fairways, but the overwhelming impression is that they have done so within the context of the original environment.

Context matters.  The local environment matters. The result is a golf course that fits perfectly, and appears as though it has always been there.  Barnbougle would be a strange place if they parachuted in a resort course like Sanctuary Cove.  Context matters.

The same is true when we in the church start thinking about new initiatives.  Parachuting in some brilliant community service initiative, or some wonderful contemporary (or traditional) approach to church, community or worship just doesn’t cut it.  What matters is looking closely at the community, its needs, its habits, its environment.  Context matters, and if the response isn’t contextual, then it’s in danger of doing more harm than good.

When you start thinking about new initiatives, look closely at your host community. How can what you do fit maximise the dunes, curves and existing environment?  How can you ensure that you’re not just dropping in an ideas from somewhere else that simply won’t connect with your community?  Context matters.

Lessons from the golf course is a continuing series of reflections

Over the weekend I was chatting with a mate about the two stories we’ve both been taking a particular interest in this week.

The first is the emerging disaster that is the confrontation between conservation organisation Sea Shepherd and the Japanese ICR whaling fleet.  The situation is well known, and I don’t need to go over the detail here again.  But in some quarters, and in my conversation, the question was raised “what do Sea Shepherd think they are doing, putting themselves in harms way so far from civilisation?”. The truth is, rescuing a stricken vessel in the far flung waters off Antarctica would not be easy. It was fortunate that on this occasion, conditions were relatively calm, and a second Sea Shepherd vessel was close by to assist.

The second story I’m following, and which is a much more “positive” story, is that of solo round-the-world sailor Jessica Watson.  Watson, the 16 year old attempting to become the youngest ever to achieve the feat, is currently a couple of hundred miles away from rounding the famed Cape Horn, off south America.  Despite a rocky start involving her and an oil tanker, Watson’s journey has proceeded smoothly, and she is well on track with the expectations of her support team.  The same question arose though as we chatted. “What is she doing putting herself in harms way like this?  Why is a 16 year old all alone in the middle of the southern ocean – perhaps the roughest stretch of water on the planet?  What if the worst happens?” Continue reading →