Mike Winter's Blog

Common Ground by Rob Cowen

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I didn’t want to finish reading this book. Not because it was bad, far from it; this was one of those books which, as the end approached I had a sense of torn emotions – I wanted to read on, to see what was coming next, but at the same time realising that I was coming to a point where there would be no more pages and I would be left somehow bereft. Locked out of a story I knew was continuing, but I could no longer share in.

Rob Cowen is one of those unusual male writers who manages to be completely open about how they feel about something, revealing a rare insight into their deeper emotions, whilst keeping the reader captivated, moved and at times feeling part of the tale. I last found writing like this when reading the delightful ‘At the Loch of the Green Corrie’ by Andrew Greig At the Loch of the Green Corrie. In Common Ground, we are led on an adventure into a small parcel of land on the outskirts of suburban Harrogate and as the book develops are introduced to the many inhabitants of this edge-land. How this small, unassuming place affects the author is a significant aspect of the book, but it also leads the reader to consider how our own edge-lands reveal more of who we are.

I now live in inner-city Leeds, but I grew up in rural Warwickshire and spent a good deal of my childhood roaming a local spinney on the edge of my village, a woodland planted on what had been the deepest hand-dug railway cutting at the time the mainline first came through. Common Ground provoked a good deal of reverie and, whilst reading about Rob’s edge-land, was transported into memories of my own and the strong connection I still feel to that space. Sadly, my spinney is now enclosed by 2m high razor-topped fencing and is no longer the escape it once was and should be for new generations still.

One of the most profound aspects of Common Ground is the way Cowen transports us into the minds of others whose lives intertwine with the edge-land, be they man or beast. The story shifts, sometimes abruptly, but at others imperceptibly from one mind to the other. One is left not being sure where reality ends and fantasy begins, but the writing is alive and often the descriptive narrative is sublime. The author’s own, sometimes deeply raw life experiences are revealed, some provoked to the surface by the place itself and aspects of life many would choose to lock away are laid bare. It would be a cold person indeed who could read this without feeling impacted, sometimes viscerally, as the journey unfolds.

I did finish the book, despite deliberately reading it increasingly slowly as I approached the end – not wanting the experience to finish, trying my best to prolong the final moment. It is probably the best book I have read in several years. It did leave me wanting the next chapter, wishing there were yet more pages to come, but perhaps it is for the reader to begin their own edge-land journey and take up the story where Cowen leaves it…
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This weekend, I was with some friends as part of our kids church gathering and they set us various tasks to consider how we can make our worship part of our everyday lives. One of these activities involved reading a quotation from Nelson Mandela and then creating something in response. I was really struck by the words and it made me stop and think, in a way I haven’t done in a while, so I wanted to share this with you and hope it might make you pause and reflect too..

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, ‘who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?’

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.

There’s nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Nelson Mandela

Well reading these words really challenged me about what I have done, do and am doing with my life. It caused me to consider all the things I’ve dreamed of being and all the things others have said I might or could be, and what am I doing about it…..

Well, I think I’ve resisted setting up a blog for ages. I’m not sure that I often have anything of great import to say that will be of interest to anyone, but there seems to be a huge groundswell of movement towards blogging, and therefore I suspect that as the inspiration strikes me, I will put up something on the blog…