Keats Keeps

at travels end

I find it difficult, most of the time, to put to words things that I wish to portray. The past several months have held a lot of life altering events that trying to collect and define in understandable, english words is a far too daunting task for me to achieve. So, to avoid being a blabbermouthed, tongue-tied, illiterate baboon I am going to attach, in the post below, a series of photos that hold significant memories for me in my past several months of being alive. Coupled with these photos will be a brief written paragraph or two describing the photo. Or something. To that extent. So, ya…

Recommended Listening

: Pigeon Man : Taken during time at Capernwray :

On the second day at Capernwray hall, Amber took Cailas and I out to the ruins about a miles walk from the our castle, Capernwray Hall. It was a cloudy day and it had rained the previous week so the soil was soft and chopped from the sheep and cattle. The ruined tower stood dishevelled at the top of the hill surrounded by a grove of trees. Walking along the hilltop we three came upon a dead pigeon. There was no blood. A small hole bore on the upper right part of its chest and its tongue stuck out at least an inch. Perhaps two. We were all take aback by its peculiarity and were perplexed at its position upon this hill; dead, alone, uneaten, and almost peaceful. To say the least we were intrigued and indulged ourselves in a bit of fantasy, as we often did at our time at Capernwray, and created a long and in depth story about why the pigeon had died and who had killed it. How, in fact, there lived a hermit in these parts who hid under fallen trees, lurking about killing innocent birds. The story became far more fantastical and foolish but I will spare you its ridiculousness.

: Open Late : Taken during time at Capernwray :

The first Saturday a group of students went on a day trip to Chester, which was about a two hour drive from the castle. The city was erected hundreds of years ago by the romans and the city centre was encapsulated by a roman wall which we took 3 or so hours to completely walk around. Walking the wall we went past this building which had written on its side “The Fear Of The Lord Is A Fountain Of Life”. When I first say it I laughed and was partially ashamed by how people who didn’t know God might perceive this statement. I have a difficult time, internally, calling myself a Christian because of all the things that are associated with it. I’m not ashamed of what I believe, but simply of people thinking I believe something else because of what people who call themsleves the same as me act and conduct themselves. I’m not saying “Woah, I’m the best Christian and never sin and Christians who sin woah u suck. SINNER”. No. The exact opposite. I think too many Christians say stuff like that. I have had a big problem with Gods grace in my life. I find it difficult to get over the fact that I am forgive even though the things that I have done. It’s difficult for me. And, I assume, difficult for pretty much everyone else. I hope.

I think too many people have an incorrect “fear” of the Lord. They fear that they are going to be judged. That they will have to judge others. That they will have to give up the things that comfort them. That God’s love wont be enough. And honestly, sometimes I think that too. And I don’t blame them. However, over my time at Capernwray, my opinion of the meaning of this statement “The Fear Of The Lord Is A Fountain Of Life” has changed. It’s difficult to put into words. In my understanding, it’s a reverence and a humbling of self. It’s me saying, “I am the created.”, “I am the servant”, “I am the unworthy”. The “Fear” of the Lord is, in my eyes, the “Acknowledgement-Of-My-Own-Weakness-And-The-Lords-Strength”

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.
[Proverbs 9.10]

And as much as I can pretend here in this post that I understand things about God, I really don’t most of the time. I’m throwing darts in my mind and my heart and hoping I hit something

: Sheep’s Serenity : Taken during time at Capernwray :

The most profound things I remember from my time at Capernwray would have to be the times when I was alone. There is no conversation like conversation with yourself. There is no conversation like conversation with God. Sitting amongst the sheep I began to find a new appreciation of how I am to be like them. How I was already so like them. How feeble and petty I am. How inglorious and unworthy I am. I still find it difficult to learn their humility though. To know your place. That’s difficult. I began to learn, in these conversations with myself, what it meant to trust in the Lord.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him,
and He will make your paths straight.
[Proverbs 3.5-6]

I began to be still. To listen. To simply be.

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”
[Psalm 46.10]

: We Are The Circus : Taken during time at Capernwray :

Logan (Far Left, Alberta), Devanee (Left, Alberta), Cailas (Left Centre, who came with me from Kelowna), Amber (Right Centre, Alberta), Me (Right), Hannah (Far Right, Somewhere in the South States). These are the people whom I miss the most. The six of us became very close over our 6 weeks at Capernwray Hall. I find it difficult to conjure up words to describe why or how. I believe it was God’s purpose, somehow. But maybe I’m just excited easily. I believe God put each of our paths in contact with each other at the exact moments that they did for any reason. What that reason exactly is is beyond me. At any rate, they meant and mean a lot to me. I’m not sure how many of them I will ever see again.

: May 16 : During my time at Capernwray :

Travel weekend, Blackpool with the gang will be a series of 72 hours (giver or take a bunch of hours probably. I’m not quite sure exactly how many hours it actually was.. anyway) that, I hope, wont ever fade from my memory. It’s a time that I get very sad over remembering because it is held as such a time of joy and happiness in my psyche. Blackpool as a city is basically a dump. It actually depressed me quite a bit while I was there. But, they have a crazy theme park with the tallest and fasted roller coaster in all of Great Britain, so that was pretty cool. But, honestly, the best memories were the six of us all hanging out in our run down, sketchy little bed and breakfast in the very top two rooms laughing, eating little sugar balls, and simply being together. It kind of felt as though we were a little family of some sort. This is one of the memories I am finding most difficult to try and put into words the feelings and emotions that I wish to express so I think I’m just going to stop there.

: My favourite photo : Taken during my time at Capernwray (specifically at the Blackpool travel weekend trip) :

This might be my favourite picture that I took over my trip. This was also from our weekend trip to Blackpool. That’s the Irish sea. That’s Amber. Yeh, I like it and I miss it.

: Fake Love : Yay Capernwray :

There was a large amount of Germans at Capernwray. They were the second majority behind Canadians. They were all extremely kind and through talking with them made me very much wish to visit Germany some day. I’m also taking German in school now, so thats cool I guess. Ich bin nicht gut. Anyway, one of the Germans I met, named Leoni, and I found we had a number similarities in our literary tastes. We had many discussions of proper grammar, our favourite words, favourite books, authors, etc., etc.. Then, one day, she came over to me and handed me a letter she had written. She then explained that it was a creative writing experiment where she had written a fake love letter and I was to write a logical and punctual reply to this letter. It was a fun exercise and was a good expenditure of a Saturday afternoon, a pressed flower, a piece of paper, some ink, and one’s own mind and thoughts.

: Self Portrait : Yay Capernwray :

My time at Capernwray was full of a lot of unexpected and appreciated surprisingly meaningful experiences that now shape how I try and live my life. One of which was injuring my foot.

To start the story off we’ve got to go back to about week 4 out of the 8 weeks that I spent at Capernwray. Graham Standford, an old Englishman and an Evangelistic speaker, showed up one Monday morning as our guest speaker for that weeks lectures. He spoke to us on Ephesians. Stanford emphasized that Ephesians’ main theme was that we should remain and live “in Christ”, always pursuing a better relationship with Him. I have never been, or wanted to be, an evangelistic Christian. The idea of blurting out what I believe and pressuring others to believe what I do without them asking me to do so never really appealed to my better nature and, in my opinion, was the complete incorrect way of telling people about the good news of Christ. Too many Christians have been, and still are, too pushy, rude, inconsiderate, proud, condemning, and flat out cruel about preaching the word of God that sometimes it makes me doubt for myself what it is I believe.

Standford, however, changed my view on Evangelists somewhat. His ministry entailed putting together a football team of athletes that he would fly around the world to live in foreign countries for 1 year at a time with the goal of simply joining a mens football league. They wanted to play the worlds favourite game with the highest level of sportsmanship, honour, and respect as possible. After each of their games Standford would invite whoever was willing to listen to have a discussion with him about Christ. He was an older man, but he spoke with more conviction than most early-20’s Christians that I’ve ever heard. To be blunt I was deeply moved by his honesty and his passion.

Anyway, after his week of preaching he invited the Capernwray students to put together a team and said that in 2 weeks time he would return with his team to have a kick around. The long and the short of it is that two weeks later, and within the first 10 minutes of the game, my foot was injured. It was pretty gross. All swollen and such. Now, if your keeping track of time, Standford came in the 4th week and the game was in the 6th, that means that Capernwray ended, and my backpacking adventured around the U.K., which would undoubtably include a large amount of walking and the necessity of both my feet in working order, commenced in 2 weeks time. Which is not enough time for a torn foot muscle to repair itself. I remember one night I had the 3 other guys in my dorm to come and pray for it. Nothing happened of circumstance.

I began icing and using crutches and taking Advil and all the things you do to try and heal something that takes a long time to heal. Two weeks passed and I was still on crutches. I remember waking up the day Cailas, Sophia, and my train to Liverpool was to leave, getting my back pack on, leaving my crutches, and limping over to the car to drive to the train station. Over my time at Capernwray the biggest thing that I think God was teaching me was what it meant to trust in Him. I remember thinking to myself, “Well, God, here goes nothing”. At first it was difficult to walk and hurt quite a bit. Once we got off the train in Liverpool we immediately got lost. It took us an hour and a half of walking to find our hostel. I massaged it that night in our sketchy hostel and reminded myself of Isaiah 40:31…

But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint.

The next day, when we made our hour long walk from our hostel all the way out near Anfield stadium into the downtown of Liverpool my foot was barely a bother. In the proceeding days and weeks after my foot was barely a nuisance at all. It’s still slightly swollen compared to my right food as I sit here writing this, but I have full mobility in it and can run and jump and play football freely again.

The whole experience was very humbling. It made me slow down. Mentally and physically. It allowed me to be still a lot more. I think I was getting really up in all the fun and activity of Capernwray and it was distracting me from what I was actually there for. Whatever that was. Anyway, it allowed me to slow down enough and to rely on the friendships I had made more and made my final weeks at Capernwray infinitely more memorable and meaningful.

: Lancaster and the Irish Sea : End of time at Capernwray :

The first week of Capernwray every student was divided into different groups. There was Family groups and Interactive Groups. Interactive groups were determined on location of residence. Aka, all the BC buds were in one group (my group), all the Albertans in another, all the Central Europeans in one, All the Souther Staters in one, so on and so forth. Family groups were all those groups mixed up and scattered out and then matched with two “parents” (Aka two staff members. A married couple where applicable, but some groups had just two odd staff members as their parents). Ever week, on Wednesdays, your family group would meet up. My family group grew exceptionally close. We went on walks in the rain together, had supper and tea out at my parents Phil and Rachael Bert’s house, and on our final family outing went down to the beaches of Lancaster in the Irish sea and had a beach fire and an evening there together. It was so nice for me because it felt like the exact same thing my true family would love to do down the Oregon coast. It was a lovely evening together, one that I hope not to forget, but at the time one that made me miss home very much.

: Night : Second to last night at Capernwray :

This was the last night for most people. Cailas and I, and a few other students, stayed a day extra because our trains left later, but for most of the students this was the last night. The gang and I went down to the newly finished dock they built on the pond and all hung out in the warm mid June night air together. It wasn’t warm all night. In fact it got quite cold at about 2/2:30. Sitting out there, our last night all together, we began to pray. We prayed for each of the individuals present there by name. One by one, all of us prayed for each other. We prayed for 3 hours straight from 1 until 4. It was a unique experience. The likes of which I most likely will not experience again. One I know I will never forget. But then again, flesh is weak and memories fade easily. I guess the whole point of this ridiculous blog post is for me to remember. For me so that I don’t forget. Or, perhaps, hopefully, will forget less.

The rest of the photos wont have as elaborate descriptions, if any at all. They’re from the preceding 2 weeks travel with Cailas and briefly with Sophia. Some things are to be shared, but others to be cherished to ones self. Ever story you tell is a story that doesn’t belong to you anymore. Some of the stories I shared with my dear friend Cailas I hope to keep as ours.
Sentimental. Ya, I know I am.

: Carnforth Railway Station :

: Liverpool Cathedral Cemetary :

: Liverpool Cathedral : Largest in UK :

: Edinburgh :

: Edinburgh Castel :

: Cailas & Castel :

: Edin-Bird Castel :

: Dinner and a Drink £9 :

: love : Inverness :

: Scotland :

: The Loch :

: Loch Ness :

: Peace :

: Beauty :

: Feet :

: Good Times :

: Flume :

: Ya? :

: York Cathedral :

: Sophia : Oxford :

: Oxford :

: Nice (Right), Doublt Nice (Left), Triple Nice (Centre) : Oxford :

: Cailas :

: Cailas & Cat : Cambridge :

: Cambridge :

: Punting break :

: Remember :

: Punting :

: The Reimer’s : There was no hope of getting a photo with all our eyes open :

My dear friends the Reimer’s deserve a word. Their hospitality for me and Cailas was extraordinary. Those 4 days we spent in their small home with their cat and their beautiful plethora of books and wonderful company were my 4 favourite days of all Cailas and my travels. Thank you Jon and Thea. I greatly cherish our friendship.

: Until Again :

That is the best that I can do.

Cheers.

discontent:contempt

My Dad recently told me about a radio broadcasting on CBC that he listened to which discussed what generates overall happiness amongst communities; specifically in terms of cities and towns. It spoke to how some towns you can drive through, or stay a night in, and they just seem to repel something in you. Everyone seems sad, or disconnected, or vacant in some way.

(You can listen to the broadcasting yourself here .)

The most interesting points brought up were how extreme wealth, coupled with poverty, and having a city based off of a highway or freeway are main contributors to a cities overall unhappiness.

When lots of people own large expensive homes there is a disconnect between them and the people around them. In the broadcast, they say that people who buy larger homes are “happier” due to their purchase for approximately 3 months before they become dissatisfied. With this unsatisfactory feeling, coupled with the physical and locational disconnect (due to how big their homes are and how far away their actual living spaces are from their neighbours), people become substantially more unhappy.

The second most striking point was the connection between a centralized transport system as a cities foundation and unhappiness as a whole. How cities built off of highways force people to use vehicles to travel around the town instead of walking or riding bikes. It allows people to retreat into their own little worlds, inside their own little cars, instead of opening up and looking around. It causes a substantial decrease in eye contact and human to human connection. No one remembers specifics about their surroundings as they commute somewhere in their car. The only time they do, as it doesn’t happen every time, is when they stop at a light, or at a stop sign, or a cross walk. It disallows for personal path overlap; unless a car accident occurs; but that usual doesn’t result in quality, loving human connection.

The reasons why these two points struck me, I believe, is because they are both so true with the city I live in. Kelowna is a summer home, vacation point, rich, highway town where old, rich people retire. Not in it’s entirety, but a majority of it is.

I realized that these two points my Dad told me about from the broadcast were the two main reasons that I have such contempt inside me towards Kelowna, even though it is a beautiful place with lots of things in it that I love. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate living here. I can honestly say that the Okanogan is one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and I mean that. But these two things are something that I haven’t been able to articulate into words for a long time now and are definitely something that I think are very true.

To counter this ‘unhappiness’ trend, my Dad took my little brother, little sister, and I out for a walk to Sutherland park; down by the wood mill at the feet of Knox Mountain. It was on the other side of the highway, so we were forced to drive there. But, it was a lovely walk. Being with my family is my favourite thing to do in the world. Here are some photos I took from our ‘Anti-Unhappiness’ adventures.