A Manifesto from Seth Godin (click here to read the manifesto in full)
On first reading a lot of things stood out, but here are a few of my favourites...
1. The greatest innovations appear to come from those that are self-reliant. Individuals who go right to the edge and do something worth talking about. Not solo, of course, but as instigators of a team. In two words: don’t settle.
7. Everyone is a marketer, even people and organizations that don’t market...
10. Mass taste is rarely good taste. [sorry U2 fans...]

Thanks and Thanks...

I had heard about the worldwide reputation of Rosengård, one of the most interesting and vibrant parts of Malmö, but was shocked to find this video on youtube (English-only speakers ignore the Swedish introduction)


(thanks to Christoffer)

Watching the video I barely recognise the area that is potrayed as a warzone by the Fox News team. I've spent a fair amount of time in Rosengård during the past year and, while I'm no expert on the area, I find it to be far safer than many parts of the UK. This kind of media misrepresentation does no service to race relations and is apparently designed to build a culture of fear rather than one of truth.

So long as we openly justify the oppression of the alien we can rest in comfortable apathy towards their pain.

Emma and I are hoping to hear this on Sunday night, but at the moment it's looking increasingly unlikely as it seems that everywhere has sold out. So if any of you have tickets to see The Kooks at Kulturbolaget and don't plan to use them please let us know!

Surrender
I'm giving You my heart and all that is within
I lay it all down for the sake of You my King
I'm giving you my dreams, laying down my rights
I'm giving up my pride for the promise of new life

And I surrender
All to You, all to You

I'm singing You this song, waiting at the cross
And all the world holds dear, I count it all as loss
For the sake of knowing Your for the glory of Your name
To know the lasting joy, even sharing in Your pain

The time between the 30th of September and today have got me thinking a lot about my Grandpa. Today would have been his 86th Birthday, and while the immediate emotions of his loss have faded, there's a deeper sense of loss as I get used to a world without him. When I was with him I always had this feeling of being with a kindred spirit, someone who felt so close in heart that the distance of age seemed to melt. There is something very precious about being around someone who, in spite of years of pastoral work, still burns with a tangible sense of passion for his Lord.

Happy Birthday Dad!
Today Neil C Morgan Esq. has reached his 52nd birthday. I can't wait to see what the future has in store for this self-confessed "late starter." Whenever I think of my parents I thank God for all the great things they modelled to us as we grew up - most notably a vibrant, earthy faith that spans the whole gamut of life and is not confined to a set of neatly-timed weekly rituals.

The snow never did stick, and Malmö remains gloriously and unpredictably autumnal.

One of the best parts of the past week has been having regular and continued conversations with people about dreams. The kind that you have while you're awake. The kind that make your heart beat faster and your body feel like pure life is flowing through it. I'm talking dreams that cut to the core of who you are as a person - the thing, or things you were made to be or do.

It's so rare the people ever find a place where they dare to speak out their dreams for others to hear.

Peter and Ellen returned from Scotland on Thursday and have figured out how to speak with a Scottish accent. Peter explained, "you basically replace all the vowel sounds with an E..." Looking at their photos reminded me of home. There's a myth that the weather has to be sunny to enjoy a holiday, but the more mountainous parts of the UK are beautiful when clothed in an ethereal haze of mist.

This weekend has been pretty fun, from Thursday night meeting a rather tired South African named Luke and welcoming him to colder climbs, to Sunday night in Rosengård. Saturday night I went to a birthday party at which I met people from Honduras, Iran, Venezuela, and even some from Sweden. Rosengård is so vibrant in its multiculturalism. A party with people from these nationalities is much less reserved than your average Swedish gathering!

At about 1am on Sunday morning Emma remembered that it was Alla Helgons Dag - the national day of rememberence, although until we got to the graveyard I only knew that "tonight people put candles on graves," and not that the graves are those of deceased loved ones.

First taste of winter
falls so white
feels so cold
fails to stick.