 |
| Auguste Rodin's Le Penseur |
For some reason, I've come over all philosophical about our impending upheaval. I don't mean in relation to the physical move or resettlement. Rather, I'm thinking about the change of mental pace I'm about to experience.
Whilst my current work is challenging in a number of delightful ways, it is rarely intellectually stimulating. In fact, the only time it is intellectually stimulating is when we have a disagreement in our management team meetings, and an 'argument' kicks off. The mental manoeuvering reminds me of Philosphy seminars, when you would go into the room with firm conviction behind opinion A, and you would leave the room an hour later with a firm conviction behind opinion Z (having travelled through the whole alphabet on the way).
You can imagine, then, that I look forward with a mix of excitement and trepidation as I contemplate a 2 year degree in Theology (for Ministry). My degree was in Philosophy, but this is quite different from theology. And it was 9 years ago! I'm a bit worried that my mind has been dulled by the monotony of everyday working life, but I suppose I just have to work on the basis that it's a bit like riding a bike.
I have tried to get myself prepared by doing a bit of reading, but as any parents among you will know, there is little spare time in a house where a 9 month old baby lives. I seem to get 4 or 5 pages into a book before having to start it again because I've left it too long before coming back to it.
Whilst my current work is challenging in a number of delightful ways, it is rarely intellectually stimulating. In fact, the only time it is intellectually stimulating is when we have a disagreement in our management team meetings, and an 'argument' kicks off. The mental manoeuvering reminds me of Philosphy seminars, when you would go into the room with firm conviction behind opinion A, and you would leave the room an hour later with a firm conviction behind opinion Z (having travelled through the whole alphabet on the way).
You can imagine, then, that I look forward with a mix of excitement and trepidation as I contemplate a 2 year degree in Theology (for Ministry). My degree was in Philosophy, but this is quite different from theology. And it was 9 years ago! I'm a bit worried that my mind has been dulled by the monotony of everyday working life, but I suppose I just have to work on the basis that it's a bit like riding a bike.
I have tried to get myself prepared by doing a bit of reading, but as any parents among you will know, there is little spare time in a house where a 9 month old baby lives. I seem to get 4 or 5 pages into a book before having to start it again because I've left it too long before coming back to it.
As if by divine intervention, as I have been typing this post I have received an email from Westcott with a mammoth number of attachments (15 in total). One of these is a reading list which I would have hoped to have dented by now (but haven't). Looks like I'll have to stop procrastinating, and have a look at the email.
Hi Lankyanglican
ReplyDeleteAt least you have an email to procratinate about. I'm looking forward to Cuddesdon but their admin is useless. Still haven't had any information about the start of term, course I'm on reading list or anything. I had to badger them about accomodation which they were allocating and finally in July got to see what we were moving to. I suppose having an early BAP meant that I at least knew where I was going in the future but has left a long time of waiting and unable to plan properly. Sorry moan over now!!! I hope your emails proved useful in preparation for your future.
Janet
ps read LAnky Anglican as an anglican from lancashire hence my associating myself with your title. I then read that you are a tall Lancastrian- at 5'2" can't claim the same!!!!
I waded through the documents this weekend, and I'm a bit wiser for it. It does make the impending change somewhat more real!
ReplyDeleteI hope you get something from Cuddesdon soon - I'm sure you will.
My Lankiness is twofold - Tall and Lancastrian.