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Ruth Scott Anglican Priest and Quaker:

So much in the news, at present, raises questions about who we are and what we call home. While chatting to my friend Hugh about what it means to belong somewhere, he started talking about hefting sheep. For a moment I thought he’d lost the plot, but no! Hugh went on to tell me that in wilder parts of the country, like the Lake District, where there are no fences, walls or hedges on the mountains, the shepherds have trained their sheep to stay within - to heft to - certain areas of the Fells. The ewes pass on this knowledge of where they belong to their lambs, and those lambs to their lambs, and so on, as if it was in their DNA. I love that image, perhaps because there are parts of England and Scotland to which I heft – the legacy, I guess, of my mixed Scottish and English ancestry. To feel I belong somewhere is a gift because in those places and among ‘my people’ I feel free to be myself. But it’s only part of my particular picture. I also inherited a love of travelling from my Scottish Gran, and I become very restless if I’m home-based for too much of the time. This wanderlust has brought me into contact with people who heft to very different places and perspectives from those I hold dear. Their perceptions have confirmed, challenged or changed my own. That hasn’t always been comfortable, but I feel so much richer because of it. I think that’s one of the reasons stories about Jesus resonate with me: He had a clear sense of his Jewish identity and where he came from, but he was constantly taking his friends beyond the people and places to which they hefted, in order to confront their prejudices and open up their limited understanding. That’s true for me too: I need to feel secure in my own identity and know where I belong, but I also need the insights and interactions of those who heft to a different physical and psychological landscape if I am to continue to grow and develop into a deeper and more compassionate humanity.