Our Childlike Hearts

 This week's quotation, by the Chinese philosopher, Mengzi, tells us, "A great man is he who does not lose his childlike heart."

And I agree that "childlike-ness" is an important quality for us to nurture in ourselves. Childlike, not childish. For me, being childlike, means being open and vulnerable and trusting and curious, rather than closed down, armoured up, mistrustful and cynical. 

Of course, it means that we are more vulnerable to being hurt by others. And when we have been hurt in the past, it may be very difficult for us to trust others again, to trust that the universe is not (all appearances to the contrary, sometimes) "out to get us." 

But I do think it is a rewarding, if sometimes challenging, way to live. Jesus has two things to say about little children. The versions I have taken are from the tenth chapter of the Gospel of Mark. He says, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs." Then a breath later, he underscores this by saying, "Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it."

It is not an easy message for most of us adults to hear. Jesus seems to be saying that we need to open our hearts, to accept the world as it comes. Which ain't easy.  Yet I have found that when I am closed down, armoured up, mistrustful and cynical, I think the worst of others, I become defensive and bitter. And I don't want to live my life like that. I want to believe the best of others, I want to reach out with love and compassion and curiosity. I want to be as brave as a little child. I want to trust that the universe is (on the whole) a benevolent place in which to live. Is that naive of me? Quite possibly. Does it make me happier? Defnitely.

Onwards and Upwards Forever?

The German poet, Heinrich Heine, was a born in 1797 and died in 1856. So he spent most of his life in the first half of the 19th century, when human, industrial and technological progress was seen as an unambiguous good. He wrote, "I believe in progress. I believe humanity is destined for happiness."

Sadly, in the 175 years since his death, we have come to understand that progress is far from being a universal good. It wasn't then, and it isn't now. Back then, all the industrial and technological progress came at a price ignored by many - the terrible working conditions of the industrial poor, and the exploitation of people and lands all over the world. 

Early next month, a book will be published by the Lindsey Press, called Cherishing the Earth - Nourishing the Spirit. I have been fortunate enough to get a sneak preview. Edited by Unitarian minister Maria Curtis, it presents a variety of responses by Unitarians - lay people, ministers and children - to the global ecological crisis we are currently facing. As it says in the publicity, "their insights range from the prophetic and political to the practical and intensely personal." And all the contributors are clear that we are in this situation because of our past and present blindness to the downsides of "progress" and that we urgently need to Do Something before it is too late. If it is not already too late... It is well worth a read.

I believe that if we are to save our beloved blue and green planet, we will need to make extensive changes to how we live our lives, far beyond putting stuff out for recycling. Each of us has a responsibility, both to the planet and to future generations, to both make greener choices as individuals and to find ways collectively to make a difference.

A Refreshing Journey

 The 19th century German poet, Friedrich Hebbel tells us, "A journey is a drink from the source of life." 

In which case, I ought to be the most well-hyrdrated person I know, because most of last year and the first three months of this have been spent travelling around England and Wales, visiting Unitarian congregations as President of the General Assembly. I'm not sure how many thousand miles I have driven, but it is a lot. And the long journeys have mostly been refreshing, due to my habit of listening to audio books while I drive. This year I have listened to several Great Courses, some of which have provided good material for services, as well as His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman, Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas (the original recording with Richard Burton as First Voice) and other fiction titles. It has made all the journeying pleasant, and has meant that I haven't got stressed when I have been stuck in traffic.

Of course, I don't think that was what Hebbel meant! When we visit new places, experiencing them can open a door in our hearts and souls. I can think of several holidays I've taken with my husband which have had that effect. Notably, attending the Passion Play in Oberammergau in 1990, being breathless with wonder at the beauty of the Austrian Tyrol, visiting new cities and immersing ourselves in their culture and history (Paris, Amsterdam, Krakow, Prague, Nuremberg, Berlin, Dresden and Leipzig spring to mind), and one wonderful tour around the countryside surrounding Paris, visiting some glorious Gothic cathedrals. And this September, we plan to celebrate our Ruby Wedding anniversary by spending a week in Vienna and another in Salzburg. Perfect!

Each new place has nourished my mind, my heart and my soul. I have sensed the Spirit's presence everywhere, even when visitng places with terrible associations, like the Nuremberg Arena and the concentration camps of Auschwitz and Birkenau. I think that what Hebbel is saying is that if we journey to a new place with open heart and mind, we will be able to take in what it has to offer of wisdom and life - Life with a capital L. And witness to what has happened there, whether recently, or long centuries ago.

Which journeys have enabled you to drink from the source of life?

How Flowers Lift the Heart

 I have to say that I agree with the Japanese saying, "If you want to be cheerful, if you want to be happy, surround yourself with flowers." 

Because, unless you are unfortunate enough to suffer from hay fever, flowers do have the power to lift our hearts. Their delicate beauty, their fragrance, the brightness of their colours (even if scientifically, I know that this is to attract insects and nothing to do with us!) always lift my spirits. And I love being presented with a bouquet of flowers for a special occasion.

Flowers have the power to lift our spirits whether they are shy woodland flowers or gorgeous hothouse blooms. I'm no gardener, but I love watching Gardeners' World, to see all the beautiful flowers which other people grow. 

Flowers are also signposts of the seasons. The snowdrops are nearly over now (ironic, as we are currently "enjoying" the first real snow of the winter, even though it is technically spring) and are making away for grape hyacinths and daffodils and purple, lilac, deep yellow and white crocuses in people's gardens, and celandines in the woods. They will be followed by pale yellow primroses and by blossom on the trees - white and pink for the most part, but also bright yellow. And of course, bluebells and tulips of all colours. Later on, the roses will begin to flower as well as the many more exotic garden flowers - including dahlias, peonies, zinnias, all of which I love to see on Gardeners' World.

The cowslips in the picture are my favourite spring flowers. When I was a little girl, they were much more common than they are now and the field opposite our house used to be full of them in late spring. Their scent is very sweet.

Which flowers lift your heart?

Peace Within

 The 19th century Austrian writer, Adalbert Stifter, once wrote, "Only the calm within ourselves lets us drift carefree to new shores."

And I think he's right. Because he included the word "carefree". We are able to drift to new shores under stress (although we may rather be paddling frantically than drifting) but I do agree that in order to be carefree, and to fully open ourselves to the possibility of "new shores", calm within does help. A lot.

Yet it is not so easy to cultivate as it is to write about... Because it involves living in the present, and choosing to let go of perfectionism and joyless striving, and allow ourselves to... yes, drift. Which is not something that comes naturally to many of us (me included!). And if we try to "work at" achieving calm within, guess what? We're doing it wrong... inner calm can only come when we let go of conscious effort and allow ourselves to be at rest. To sit in the silence, to rest our hearts and souls. Being content to let go, to not achieve, to trust.

All these concepts are so foreign to most of us - it seems far more natural to throw our whole selves into the effort of achieving something. Many of us find it difficult to abdicate control, to allow things to turn out as they will, without our volition. But it is surprising that, when we do manage to do this, matters turn out well, as often as not.

Which reminds me of Benjamin Hoff's wonderful book, The Tao of Pooh. In which he explains the principles of Taoism through the characters and actions (or non-actions) or Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, Eeyore, Rabbit and the other inhabitants of A.A. Milne's The World of Pooh. When I began my spiritual journey, I was far more of a Tigger, bouncing around enthusiastically, rushing into things with little reflection, or like Rabbit, who was too clever for his own good. It has taken years and long practice to begin to learn to trust, to let go, like Pooh.

But when I manage it (which is not always) that inner calm does descend, and I am enabled to "drift carefree to new shores."