What Can We Rely On?

 The 16th century philosopher, Michel Eyquem de Montaigne, once wrote, "That which we can least rely on, is ourselves."

And my first reaction was, "that's a bit depressing." Because in this frenetic century, many people believe that the *only* thing they can rely on is themselves. Which is sad.

Then I thought again. Many thoughtful people have commented that this yearning for independence, this belief that the individual has to be front and centre, is the ego speaking, not the soul. I would rather say that because all of us are deeply interconnected, not only with each other, but also with all other living things, we must rely on those connections to live fruitful and fulfilling lives. 

Two of the Unitarian Universalist Association's Seven Principles find a balance between these two points of view. The First Principle reads: "We affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every person."

While the Seventh Principle reads: "We affirm and promote the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part."

So yes, every person has inherent worth and dignity, and each has "that of God" in them. At the same time, no-one can only rely on themselves, so it is necessary to be aware of and to interact with the "interdependent web of all existence" so that we are in relationship, in community with the wider world. 

We can rely on ourselves, but we also need to rely on others...

Swings and Roundabouts

 The German Romantic poet, Karoline von Günderrode, once wrote, "In order to win something more surely, one must always give up something else."

And I have certainly found this to be true, in my own life. In fact, I would go so far as to say it is amost always true, for the vast majority of people. The phrase "No-one rides for free." did not come about by accident.  Life is a process of making choices and decisions, and there is usually a downside, a price, to any decision or choice we make. 

Let me give you a couple of examples: the price of nurturing my children through to adulthood, of giving them strong roots, inevitably led to them leaving home as fully-formed adults. I had to also give them wings to fly. The cost of a daily writing habit is the ability to ever lie in bed beyond six a.m. The things we have to give up in order to "win something more surely" may be minor and easily absorbed (like geting up an hour early, at least for me) or it may be major and life changing (having to let my children grow into their own people, no longer dependent on me).

The thing we have to give up may be something we never thought would change. I was a librarian for twenty-five mostly happy and fulfilling years, before I felt the call to ministry. I was happy in my final library job, working for Learning Resources for Education, Northamptonshire's Schools Library Service, and had to think long and hard about leaving. I still miss being in touch with the children's book publishing scene.

But, as I was on the cusp of beginning my ministry training, Rev Lindy Latham sent me some very wise advice, by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, which I have never forgotten; in fact, it made so much sense to me that it has been pinned to the notice board in my study ever since:

"You must give up everything in order to gain everything. What must you give up? All that is not truly you/ all that you have chosen without choosing and value without evaluating, accepting because of someone else's extrinsic judgement, rather than your own/ all your self-doubt that keeps you from trusting and loving yourself or other human beings. What will you gain? Only your own, true self; a self who is at peace, who is able to truly love and be loved, and who understands who and what [s]he is meant for. But you can be yourself only if you are no one else. You must give up 'their' approval, whoever they are, and look to yourself for evaluation of success and failure, in terms of your own level of aspiration that is consistent with your values. Nothing is simpler and nothing is more difficult." 

I have tried to live by it ever since. 

Memento Mori

Warning: may include distressing content. 

The Latin phrase, 'memento mori' means "remember that you have to die." I was reminded of it yesterday evening, when my husband and I were watching a programme presented by Alexander Armstrong, about his experiences of visiting South Korea.

(image: Wikimedia Commons)

Most of the programme was about the (to us) very weird and unusual popular culture in Seoul, but there was one segment, only a few minutes long, when he went out into the countryside to participate in a death meditation. Which was absolutely fascinating and very powerful. He was in this beautiful green space, with mature trees all around, to meditate on death. He obviously had no idea what was coming.

This is what I remember about it: at first, the meditation master talked about Armstrong's life - how would he feel if he knew it was coming to an end. Then he took him to a nearby space which had rows of open, empty coffins in it. They walked along one row, and came to one which had an A4 photo of Armstrong propped up in it.

And I saw Armstrong's face change. Suddenly, this was serious, important. The meditation master dressed him in a pale yellow garment to represent a shroud, and invited him to sit in the coffin. Then he asked him questions about his life - what he was proudest of, what he had achieved, did he have any regrets etc. I could tell Armstrong was finding it hard to think about this stuff, while sitting in a coffin with his own photo in it.

Then the meditation master told him to lie down in the coffin. And put the lid on top of him, then banged on it several times with a wooden mallet, as though he was nailing it down. This freaked both Maz and I out - we agreed that we could never have undergone it.

A short while later, the meditation master opened the lie and told Armstrong that he had been reborn, and asked what he would do with his new life. 

Armstrong's response was something like, "It's all about love." I don't think he will ever forget that experience. I'm sure I wouldn't. A real tipping point in his life - a call to action, to examine one's life *now* before it is too late.

It was such a powerful ritual.

Finite and Infinite

 Thomas Aquinas, the 13th century Dominican friar and theologian, one wrote, "Whatever a finite being conceives is finite."

And yes, I agree, up to a point. I think his point was that only God is infinite, so only God can create something infinite. But his word, "conceives" hints at something else. I Googled "conceive" and every dictionary definition I came across spoke about "forming a plan or idea or design in the mind." Which is the starting point for every human achievement, whether it is a painting, a sculpture, a piece of music, a book, or the beautiful ceiling in the picture above. They all begin with a plan or idea or design in the mind of a finite human being.

And yet I also believe that some things created by human hands, human hearts, human minds can, in one sense, be infinite. I'm talking about the effect they can have on others. When a beautiful object such as the ones I detailed above, is presented to a human being, it can have a catalytic effect on the viewer or listener or reader.

It can even become what the Buddhists call "a finger pointing at the moon", although Joan Chittister, in a fascinating blogpost, gives the Sufis the credit for this saying. She wrote, "The Sufi tell of disciples who, when the death of their master was clearly imminent, became totally bereft. 'If you leave us, Master,' they pleaded, 'how will we know what to do?' And the master replied, 'I am nothing but a finger pointing t the moon. Perhaps when I am gone you will see the moon.' The meaning is clear: it is God that religion must be about, not itself. When religion makes itself God, it ceases to be religion."

Nevertheless, I do believe that finite creations - which enter our minds and hearts directly through our senses, even religions, can play a role in our spiritual growth by helping us to sense the infinite presence of the Divine. But we have to remember that they are only fingers pointing at the moon, not the moon itself. The distinction is important, and absolute.

Creativity as Self Expression

 The wonderful artist, Vincent van Gogh, once wrote, "Express hope through a star, longing through a radiant sunset." Which I think is a brilliant summary of the ways in which creativity can help us to express ourselves and to maintain balance in our lives.

Until about fifteen years ago, I didn't consider myself to be a creative person. Sure, I enjoyed putting together my worship services, and stitched numerous cross-stitch projects, but I didn't consider these things to be creative - in fact, I referred to my cross-stitch projects as "paint by numbers with needle and thread."

Then a dear friend challenged me, when she was teaching me how to Zen doodle, and I said, "I'm sorry, I'm not a creative person." She pointed out quite firmly that being creative was the birthright of us all and that there were a myriad ways for this creativity to come out. I didn't have to be a brilliant artists

 to describe myself as creative. And this affirmation opened a door for me, for which I will be forever grateful.

I have recently been re-reading Elizabeth Gilbert's fabulous book, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. She defines "creative living" as "living a life that is driven more strongly by curiosity than by fear." She describes it as, "cooperating fully, humbly, and joyfully with inspiration." 

Doesn't that sound fun? We (and I mean every single person with a heartbeat) can learn to express our creativity in a multitude of ways, and hence living a fuller, more joyful life. Liz Gilbert has taught me that it doesn't matter whether we "succeed" in the world's terms; the thing which matters is that we choose to spend at least part of our time bringing something new and never before seen into the world. 

Since that day my friend challenged me, told me I absolutely *was* creative, I have spent much of my spare time writing and crocheting - my two favourite expressions of creativity. And doing either of them brings me so much happiness, so much fulfilment.

How do you live a creative life?