‘I love walking in London,’ said Mrs Dalloway. ‘Really, it’s better than walking in the country.’ A rare moment during the day, Virginia Woolf’s novel in hand, sunshade precisely positioned to fend off the heat of the sun, time to read, time for time out. Intrigued by Clarissa Dalloway, her ostensibly successful society life limited by social expectations, particularly regarding gender and class, influencing and limiting her identity, I sent a friend a photo of the cover boasting I had time to read!
But Mrs Dalloway remained, the same page unturned, my attention drawn by the sights and sounds of a beautiful, busy summer beach in a stunning bay on the Kent coast. Families, groups of friends, digging in the sand, splashing in the sea, being together, playing cricket; there was an overwhelming and absorbing sense of joy. Unable to continue reading, I slipped the book back into the bag, and looked, and listened, without effort, taken up in the moment, a sense of peace, of community with those around, a one-ness with the beauty and enormity of creation, the sea stretching to the distant horizon.
The emotion of that moment felt familiar, but somehow out of context.
Many times, I’ve sat in St Martin’s, silent, focussed on the candles, the altar, the East Window, the flowers, being in a still space with our community and with God. And here I was, on a beach, and unsought, experiencing the same sense of God’s presence and love, above, below, right hand and left hand, the church walls the cliffs and gardens, the sea the altar, candles and window, the holiday makers the congregation. A one-ness of Creator, creation and creatures.
Is this Sabbath time? I think so. One of my readings this week, Ecclesiastes 3: 1 says, ‘For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.’ God in God’s infinite wisdom knows our human need for time out, for restoration. And God knows no down time, God is, God is with, God is with us.
Mrs Dalloway? I have yet to meander with Clarissa through the pages, but hope that somehow, she finds her own identity, becomes the person she was created to be. I’ll let you know. Please don’t tell me if you know already!
Mel Adams
