Candidate conference day 1

Spot had been on holiday all week, so drove me to my first conference. That was handy, as I did turn up with more than I would have if I'd travelled with public transport. I was almost late, as we couldn't find his house keys.

The first day was pretty intensive. Lots of new people to meet and get to know; many things to learn. It's little wonder candidates have fallen asleep during sessions, given the intensity of things here.

I realised I'm maybe not as uncomfortable with new people as I used to be. Maybe I've never been too bad, or perhaps this is a gift which is growing in me. Or t may be the simple fact we are all in this together. We may have different backgrounds and experiences, but we are all starting on our ministries to which God has called us.

I had heard cliques can form. I understand groups of individuals will be drawn together for reasons including the university they will be studying at, their ministry (diaconal, word and sacrament, ordained local ministry). I have tried to avoid being drawn, though that will become more difficult as I get to know my colleagues. As part of this, I've been trying to sit with different people at the sessions and meals. Okay, it's only the first day, but others stories and experiences are amazing and encouraging. I pray mine are too.

The speech training was interesting. Maybe I have a strange sense of humour, but there were some jokes the session leader made I just didn't find funny; the rest of the group were ending themselves. I think I've been noticed for that, but I'm not one to go with the crowd.

During that session, we were to practice using or diaphragms. That was okay until we were made, sorry, asked to face the wall. I felt 5, 6 years old and remembered vividly the humiliation of a teacher doing that to me, just because she didn't like me. So, the laughing-it-off defence mechanism kicked in. I kept corpsing. Eventually, I was almost getting it together when someone suggested we sounded like bagpipes. That was me, I lost it. Lesson, don't face the wall and go to your own place with no one around to practice.

Following the last session and prayers, I was chatting with two of my diaconal colleagues. One kept glancing at my scar on my shoulder. I didn't know whether to say something or wait to see it she asked. I waited. I'm still waiting. I have got over my self consciousness about it. I'm quite proud of it, as it is part of me. But please, please ask me. I think it was bothering you more than me. And remember, or think, just think, how you may make a parishioner feel if you did that to them.

At the end of the day, I didn't just head to bed. Big mistake. I chatted with some colleagues for an hour or so and that woke me up a bit much. Consequently, I haven't slept very well. Today is going to be tough, even with the afternoon break.