“I am only one, but still I am one.
I cannot do everything, but still I can do something.
And because I cannot do everything,
I will not refuse to do the something I can do.”

Edward Everett Hale

Friday 26 April 2024

Living with Passion

The 16th century philosopher, René Descartes, once wrote, "Trying to live without philosophising is like keeping your eyes closed without thinking about opening them."


And, while I don't quite agree with him, what I do agree with is the spirit behind the words. I think that what he is saying, is that in order to live a full and satisfying life, it is necessary to be passionate about something. In his case, it was philosophy.

Which made me wonder what I need so strongly that I am passionate about it. And I came up with four answers: the love of my family and close friends; walking in nature (particularly Salcey Forest, or by lakes, mountains and the sea); reading books; and being creative, whether that is in the form of writing, or crochet, or cross-stitch. When I am engaged in or with any of those activities, I am blissfully happy. I can spend inordinate amounts of time doing them, and never get bored or fed up. Time passes by in a flash and I don't want whatever it is to come to an end.

Which has occasionally got me into trouble... whenever a new book by a favourite author comes out, I am avid to read it, and actively resent any time spent away from it until that first blissful reading is done. Then I go back for a more leisurely second reading, which can be interrupted.

Which doesn't mean to say that I neglect the other parts of my life. My Protestant work ethic is too strong for that. Rather, it means that I get them done and dusted as quickly as possible, so that I can return to my passions. Today, for example, I estimate that I have a couple of hours of work to do, after which I plan to settle down with the baby blanket I'm crocheting for my daughter's yet-to-be-born son, and will probably spend most of the rest of the day on it, stopping only for meals. During which time, I will be as happy as a pig in clover.

What are you passionate about?

Friday 19 April 2024

Learning through Experience

The French Renaissance philosopher, Michel de Montaigne, was a man after my own heart. He had important ideas about the education of children and once wrote, "It may be that we become more learned through the knowledge of others. We become wise only through ourselves."


I found the child education section of the Wikipedia article about him fascinating, as it chimes so well with Unitarian thought. Here's what it says: 

"He believe that a tutor should be in dialogue with the student, letting the student speak first... such a dialogue was intended to create an environment in which students would teach themselves. They would be able to realize their mistakes and make corrections to them as necessary.
    Individualized learning was integral to his theory of child education. He argued that the student combines information already known with what is learned and forms a unique perspective on the newly learned information. Montaigne also thought that tutors should encourage the natural curiosity of students and allow them to question things. He postulated that successful students were those who were encouraged to question new information and study it for themselves, rather than simply accepting what they had heard from authorities on any given topic.... 
    Experience also was a key element to learning for Montaigne. Tutors needed to teach students through experience rather than through the mere memorization of information often practised in book learning. He argued that students would become passive adults, blindly obeying and lacking the ability to think on their own.... He believed that learning through experience was superior to learning through the use of books. For this reason, he encouraged tutors to education their students through practice, travel, and human interaction."

What is not to like about that? Montaigne was far ahead of his time. Even when I was a child, in the 1960s, much emphasis was placed on rote memorization of dates and facts, although we were also (thankfully) encouraged to find out things for ourselves. 

I'm also a great believer in lifelong learning. I hope to *never* stop learning new things, and believe with Montaigne that experience is absolutely the best teacher of wisdom. Although, I also think that the reading of books and the acquisition of new knowledge and ideas is vital too. I have written on here before about the huge impact which books and the new ideas they have brought me, have had on my life. 

In our Unitarian communities, we encourage our attenders and members to bring their whole selves to the process of "Living Unitarianly" to quote Unitarian minister, Michael Dadson. Which includes not only what we have previously learned (from whatever source) but also our life experiences. And asking questions, rather than blindly accepting what others tell us. And applying it all to our current lives. Unitarianism urges us to be open to new ideas, new ways of being in the world, so that we may change and grow into our wisest and best selves, respecting and supporting the life journeys of our fellow travellers along the way.
    



Friday 12 April 2024

Why Reason is Important

When I first read this week's quote, by Austrian philosopher, Karl Popper, I was doubtful about it. It reads, "The do-gooders are the real enemies of an open society."


Luckily, it is my practice to try to discover the actual words of the quote, rather than depending on Google to translate them correctly from the German (although, to be fair, if often does a good job). And discovered that the quote comes from his book, The Open Society and Its Enemies, and that his argument is not a simple dismissal of the works of "do-gooders". 

Instead, he seems to be advocating the primacy of reason over emotion, to which, as a Unitarian, I have to give serious consideration. Here is another, somewhat longer quote, from the same book: "Aestheticism and radicalism must lead us to jettison reason, and to replace it by a desperate hope for political miracles. This irrational attitude which springs from intoxication with dreams of a beautiful world is what I call Romanticism. It may seek its heavenly city in the past or in the future; it may preach 'back to nature' or 'forward to a world of love and beauty'; but its appeal is always to our emotions rather than to reason. Even with the best intentions of making heaven on earth it only succeeds in making it a hell - that hell which man alone prepares for his fellow-men."

Hmm. I'm not sure I entirely agree with him - I believe there is room for hopes and dreams in our lives, otherwise what would be the point? Yet at the same time, I can reluctantly understand what he seems to be saying: that when those hopes and dreams are founded on emotions rather than reason, they may not have a very good chance of success. I believe we need a mixture of hopes and dreams with hard-headed reason and commonsense, if we are to move towards a better society for all of us.

It reminds me of the oft-misquoted words of Samuel Johnson, from 1775: "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." What Johnson actually said, commenting on "the unhappy failure of pious resolves", was, "Sir, hell is paved with good intentions."

So perhaps our take-away from this should be not to rush into blindly "doing good" without a wider and reasoned consideration of all the possible consequences of our actions. Which may be a colder way to live, yet ultimately, it may do more good than the alternative.






Saturday 6 April 2024

Considering Death

The 18th century American polymath, writer and statesman, Benjamin Franklin famously wrote, "Nothing is certain except death and taxes." However, it is sometimes possible to be exempt from taxes, or to get a refund, but death is certain. Every living thing, including us, is mortal, and will one day, sooner or later, die.



Death is the final mystery; I blogged about this way back in 2011, here. More than twelve years later, my attitude to death remains the same. I believe we cannot know what happens after death, but we can choose to face it with courage or with fear and dread. And, being an optimist, I choose to face it with, if not courage, then at least with equanimity. As someone mutters at the beginning of a track of Pink Floyd's wonderful album Dark Side of the Moon, "I am not frightened of dying. Everyone's got to die sometime. Why should I be frightened of dying? There's no reason for it. Any time will do, I don't mind." I first heard that at the age of 13, and it had a profound effect on my attitude to death.

 (I hasten to add that I've had any bad health news, I've just been thinking about it lately - the fruits of getting older, I guess). 

When I carried out a survey of the beliefs, values and practices of contemporary British Unitarians, back in 2017 (the findings are published in Unitarians: Together in Diversity, published by the Lindsey Press) one of the questions I asked was, "What do you believe happens after we die?" And the responses were varied and fascinating: a significant minority of the respondents (19%) declared that they did not believe in life after death - that when the body dies, that's it. More than a third were open-minded about it, but were not sure what form, if any, it might take. Many of these were willing to consider such possibilities like the idea that human beings 'live on' in the memories of others; or that the soul / spirit lives on after death, perhaps as a return to God / the Source; or as life on a spiritual plane or some other form of consciousness; or in a reincarnated existence.

Many shared my own belief that it is far more important to concentrate on doing the best we can, where we are, in this life, rather than worrying overmuch over what might happen "afterwards". For me, living well is far more important. As a Unitarian, I am fortunate that I don't need to worry about where my soul might go after death, depending on my actions in this life: I believe in neither heaven nor hell as after-life concepts. As far as I'm concerned, we make our own hells, our own heavens, here and now. And, through our actions (or inactions), we can turn other people's lives into living hells, living heavens.

Yet I do believe that some part of me will be reunited with the Divine, from whence my soul came, when I was born. I find this belief comforting, and it even helps me to listen to the Divine spark within, so that I can strive to be the best person I can, here, now.


Friday 29 March 2024

Choosing to Follow the Example of Jesus

I don’t know why it is, but most of the news we read in the papers, hear on the radio, see on the television or the internet, seems to be bad news. Decent behaviour seems less spectacular and is less often reported. Why is that, do you think? Could it be because we instinctively expect such behaviour, and therefore feel it unnecessary to call attention to it? I think that this would be more the Unitarian view of human nature. I believe it is our job to rise above our petty human limitations and find a better, more inclusive, more compassionate way of living in relationship with the rest of humankind, and with the blue-green planet that is our home.


(credit:RasooliArtowrks on DeviantArt)

I love the writings of Richard Rohr, a Catholic Franciscan monk, who is one of the most open-minded Christians I have ever known. He tells us, “Jesus never said, 'Worship me,'' he said 'Follow me.' He asks us to imitate him in his own journey of full incarnation. To do so, he gives us two great commandments: (1) Love God with your whole heart, soul, mind, and strength and (2) Love your neighbour as yourself. In the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus shows us that our 'neighbour' even in cludes our 'enemy'."

It is up to us to follow the example of Jesus, love our neighbours as ourselves, treat them as they would wish to be treated, with lots of compassion, no judgement, and absolute equity and respect, and do our best to make the world a more positive, happier place.

I have long believed that there is a divine spark within each of us, "that of God" as the Quakers would say. As I see it, our job as Unitarians, as human beings, is to be constantly aware of the divine influences around us, in the world, in our fellow human beings, and to recognise that there is that of God in everyone, and that we are all connected to each other, on a very fundamental level. When we are in loving relationship with others, we can form circles of love. Because being in loving relationship with others is the strongest way I know of influencing the world for good.

Which the world desperately needs at the moment. Although our headlines are filled with news of the war in Gaza (not so much about the Ukraine now, although the war there continues), there are many other places in the world where war and famine and hatred are spreading their toll of misery. Many other places which need our attention, our compassion, our action. We human beings are complex creatures. I think we have to accept that the polarity between what we call good and what we call evil is present in every individual, as well as in humankind generally, but that it is up to each one of us to make a conscious effort to choose the good over the evil, and to make of our lives a greater whole.

So what should we do about this? We are all human beings, we are all members of many communities – our families, our friends, our colleagues, our faith and other communities – and we are all members of the human race. What difference can we, as individuals, make to those communities? I think we need to be aware that we are in a living relationship with the rest of the world, and that our words and actions can influence the fate of that world and its inhabitants, our fellow human beings, not to mention all the other living things. Whether our influence is for good or ill is up to us.

There are people whose lives have been shining examples of putting this Golden Rule, which is shared by all the major religions, into practice. Rev. Martin Luther King Jr was one; Nelson Mandela was another; so was Mother Theresa. I could also mention the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu. What all these people have in common is that whatever life threw at them, they somehow managed to rise above the natural human instincts for revenge and hate, and continued to live their lives in a spirit of love.

It’s a big wide world, and we are only little people. But we can resolve to make our little corners of the world more loving places.

 

Friday 22 March 2024

Life's Ups and Downs

You know how it is... on any particular day, we can be strolling along in our lives, quite happy, with nothing in particular going on, then some news comes which turns everything upside down. It might be that something terrible has happened in the world - another war or natural disaster, or we are reminded that the climate change crisis is still getting worse, day by day, whether we ignore it or not, whether we do your best to minimise our own carbon footprint or not. The news is full of distressing stories.


Or it might be something more personal: a family member or close friend is ill, when yesterday they were fine; or something else has happened to them, which will change their life, and hence ours.

Or it might be something quite trivial that matters to nobody else but us: perhaps a coffee date is cancelled, or we realise we've screwed something up at work. But it still hurts or irritates us, upsetting our equilibrium.

In all these cases, what has happened is a life-changing event. But the only thing we can control, is our own response to whatever it is. And how we respond may change over quite a short period of time. Our first response will (probably) to be upset, hurt, angry, sad, ashamed - any one of a number of negative emotions. 

Yet I have found, over the years, that our first responses are rarely the most helpful ones, unless they inspire us to do something positive. (To give an example, if we are upset by a video about something bad happening in the world, and our response is to try to help in whatever way we can, that is helpful.)

But mostly, our first responses to something upsetting are negative, and not helpful in the long term. At such times, I find it useful (if I can) to step away from the bad news (whatever it is) and find somewhere I can be alone and simply breathe. Just breathe. If I'm at home, I'll take myself up into the Forest, and allow its peace to rebalance me. If I can manage to remember to do this, the tumult in my mind will eventually quieten, enabling me to consider the situation with a little more objectivity. Because I know, from long experience of responding first and considering later, that then, and only then, will I be able to respond appropriately, helpfully, compassionately, to whatever it is.

Of course, there are situations when this simply doesn't work - if we have lost a loved one, for example. But even then, simply sitting or walking in silence, meditating, for a while may give us the strength to cope with whatever the situation is, to find some perspective, and to remember that we are not alone. That we have family and friends to support us. And in my case, to remember that God is Love at the centre of everything. And that, as Julian of Norwich famously wrote, in the long term, "all shall be well, all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."




Friday 15 March 2024

A Huge Challenge

Mahatma Gandhi, the mid-20th century non-violent Indian nationalist and philosopher, who famously led the Indian nation out of the British Empire, once wrote, "To see the universal and all-pervading Spirit of truth face to face, one must be able to love the meanest of creation as oneself. And a man who aspires after that cannot afford to keep out of any field of life."


In other words, it's not good enough to stand at the sidelines of life and spout platitudes about goodness, mercy etc. It is necessary to engage with everything around us, on a deeply compassionate and empathic level, regardless of its / their station and circumstance. Gandhi was famous for engaging with people of the Dalit caste, those who were considered to be "untouchable" by members of higher castes.

But oh my goodness! It is a huge challenge. I am sitting here in my nice warm house, working on my laptop (because I can afford to use as much electricity as I need to) and generally living a life of privilege. I have written about my uneasiness about it before, and am only too aware that as a well-off, White, heterosexual woman, I have a head start on so many others, simply through accidents of birth, and good fortune.

Yet Gandhi is not talking only about having compassion and empathy for other human beings, vitally necessary though that is. He speaks of loving "the meanest of creation" as oneself. If we follow that to its logical end, we should all be vegans, climate change and social justice activists, and committed to non-violence, and to alleviating the circumstances of anyone worse off than ourselves.

And I fear that it too hard for most of us. It is too hard for me. Then I remember that I am in the privileged position of being able to choose whether or not to engage with this stuff. And feel guilty all over again. 

Yet I believe that the attempt to live in this way should at least be made, if we are to save this planet and the people and living creatures on it. If we are to fight for justice and equity for all living beings. Words are easy to say and write, but translating those words into concrete and effective actions is hard. Perhaps the least any of us should do is what we can, where we are. And be aware of what we are running away from facing, if we choose to turn our backs on making the effort, being our best selves.

Like I said, it's a huge challenge...


Friday 8 March 2024

God Beyond Proof

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor, theologian and passionate campaigner against the Nazi regime. For this "crime", he was imprisoned by Hitler's regime in April 1943, and executed by them on 9th April 1945.


But his faith in God, in God's grace, was untouched by his sufferings. As the Wikipedia article about him comments, "His writings on Christianity's role in the secular world have become widely influential; his 1937 book, The Cost of Discipleship, is described as a modern classic." 

When his fellow dissident pastor, Martin Niemöller, founded the Pastors' Emergency League in 1933, to protest against Nazi interference in church affairs and theology, Bonhoeffer swiftly came on board. The League eventually evolved into the Confessing Church, which stood for traditional Christian values against the German Christians, who supported Hitler's policies.

He once wrote, "A God who let us prove his existence would be an idol." Which is a neat expression of the central paradox of any deistic faith. Because belief in God is essentially a matter of faith, which the anonymous author of the Epistle to the Hebrews in the New Testament defined as, "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."

I agree with him, up to a point. Yes, none of us can prove (or disprove!) the existence of God. For people who believe in Him / Her / It, God exists; for people who don't, God doesn't. But I believe that we can know (in a certain sense) that God exists for us, through faith.  And I, along with so many thousand others, have spent considerable time and energy trying to work out what God means to me, as a Unitarian.

Over the past decade or so, I have come to appreciate that for me, God's presence is everywhere, in our ordinary, everyday lives, if we had but eyes to see and ears to hear. And is also eternal, infinite and real; not unknowable. Or at least, not entirely. I believe we can only get glimpses of the Divine, but we can become aware of Her / Him / It in everything around us, in ourselves, and in each other.

This belief makes me a panentheist, which is defined in Cross's The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church as, "the belief that the Being of God includes and penetrates the whole universe, so that every part of it exists in Him [sic.] but that His [sic.] Being is more than, and is not exhausted by, the universe."

So for me, the Divine is not only beyond proof and eternal and infinite, but also immanent, within all things. As the Quakers would say, there is "that of God in everyone". To which I would add, "and in everything."

The presence of the sacred in the natural world was first shown to me by my father, when I was a little girl. He showed me a flower and asked me to really look at it, to become aware of its intricate and complex design, having petals, sepals, stamens, carpels; each element working together to form that flower and enabling it to reproduce. He asked me, "How can we look at the design of that flower, and not believe in a creator God?" And I felt an inner jolt, which has always accompanied my understanding of a revelation of the truth. The beauty and intricate coherence of the natural world still fill me with awe and delight, and I often stop, on my walks in the forest near my home, to give thanks.

The understanding that this Divine indwelling presence also extends to humankind has taken longer to penetrate. But today, I honestly trust that there is that of God in everyone; and that God is Love at the centre of everything. And that the best way of worshipping Him / Her / It is to recognise that, and to try to live in the world in response to this sacred presence. 

Proof and trust are very different ways of approaching difficult ideas, such as the existence of a Divine Being. It is, perhaps, natural to want some proof, and many Christians cite a list of belief statements as proof of God's existence, in the form of various creeds which summarise Christian beliefs.

But I say again, belief is not the same as proof. We cannot prove the existence of God, but I honestly don't think it matters. What matters is that we live our lives in the best way we can, try to make a positive difference in the world, and do as little harm as possible. And I appreciate that belief in a divine being is not necessary to resolve to do this, but I find that it helps me, as it helps countless others.


      

   

Friday 1 March 2024

Human Being as Spirit

This week's philosophical quote, by the Danish Existentialist philosopher, Søren Kierkegaard, reads, "A human being is spirit. But what is spirit? The spirit is the self. But what is the self?"



Of course, this being Kierkegaard, I realised it would probably be more complicated than this. So I Googled to find the quote in context. It is from his book, The Sickness Unto Death: A Christian Psychological Exposition for Upbuilding and Awakening. Here it is: 

"A human being is spirit. But what is spirit? Spirit is the self. But what is the self? The self is a relation that relates to itself or is the relation's relating itself to itself in the relation; the self is not the relation but is the relation's relating itself to itself. A human being is a synthesis of the infinite and the fintie, of the temporal and the eternal, of freedom and necessity, in short, a synthesis. A synthesis is a relation between two. Considered in this way, a human being is still not a self... In the relation between two, the relation is the third as a negative unity, and the two relate to the relation and in the relation to the relation; thus under the qualification of the psychical the relation between the psychical and the physical is a relation. If, however, the relation relates itself to itself, this relation is the positive third, and this is the self."

Which hurt my head a little. However, one sentence spoke to my condition: "A human being is a synthesis of the infinite and the fintie, of the temporal and the eternal, of freedom and necessity, in short, a synthesis." Which reminded me of the Quaker affirmation that there is "that of God in everyone."

When we really start to think about or reflect on what we are as human beings, it gets complicated. We have a body, which is physical; we have a mind, which does our thinking; we have emotions, which do our feeling; and many of us believe we have a soul, which is "that of God" within each of us. I believe that our bodies, minds and emotions live in time, but our soul, which I believe came into us at our birth, is that eternal part ofus which is reaching out to that of the Divine which is in, and is, the world and the universe. And it will return to union with the Infinite, which some of us call God, when we die.

As I wrote in a previous post, "For me, God, the Divine, Spirit of Life and Love, is eternal, infinite and real. But not unknowable. At least, not entirely. I believe we can only get glimpses of the Divine, but we can be aware of some Being beyond our finite selves in everything around us, but also in ourselves and in each other."

I have also pondered on the nature of the Spirit here. I believe that when we choose to be open to the presence of the Spirit everywhere, that is when we grow into our true selves. I'm not sure I'll ever really understand Kierkegaard, but that is my take on his words.







Friday 23 February 2024

The Nature of Truth

Edith Stein was a German Jewish philosopher who later converted to Catholicism, and became a Discalced Carmelite Nun. She died in Auschwitz-Birkenau in 1942 and was canonised by the Church as a saint and martyr, St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross.

She once wrote, "But this is the essence of all human philosophising: truth is only one, but it is divided for us into truths that we must conquer step by step."


Truth (somewhat ironically) is a slippery word, with various shades of meaning. As the playwright Oscar Wilde wrote in The Importance of Being Earnest, "the truth is rarely pure and never simple." I Googled it, and came up with these three definitions:

    1 the quality of being true.
    2 that which is true or in accordance with fact or reality
    3 a fact or belief that is accepted as true.

So there is legal truth ("I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."); scientific truth (proved by objective evidence);  and spiritual or mythical truth (a fact or belief that is accepted as true).

Even the first two, legal truth and scientific truth, may not be such immoveable feasts as they seem at first sight. For the first is dependent on the memory and subjective thinking and beliefs of the person telling it and the second is only true so long as further evidence is not revealed, which turns that particular scientific truth upside down.

The one I'm most interested in, as a writer and a miniter, is the third. Because I believe that most human beings live out their lives in accordance with what they believe to be the highest truth known to them. It also means the stories we tell ourselves in an attempt to make sense of our world. Which may not be "true" in the strictest legal or scientific sense. And yet, it defines their lives - how they act, whom they associate with, and on and on.

So I think I'd qualify my definition of truth with the caveat "so far as I know at this moment in time." I cannot simply accept a once-proved fact as immutable, as many religious believers do. Which is why I am a Unitarian. We are open to discovering new truths, which may (indeed, should) influence our beliefs and behaviour. Which is why there is a Unitarian Universalist 'bumper sticker', which says, "Come to us if you want your answers questioned."

Our whole lives are a quest for truth, which we must uncover / discover step by step, as Edith Stein advised. And it can be incredibly difficult to let go of truths we have held onto since childhood, even when the evidence that they are false is clear. All we can do is our best.

Friday 16 February 2024

Gardens of the Mind

I love the idea that our minds are like gardens, and that it is up to us to cultivate "thoughts, ideas and visions of great beauty" as the anonymous author of Thought for Today put it on 6th February. We need to tend them carefully. I also believe that our wider communities (whether of family, work colleagues, friends or congregations) can be seen as gardens in need of tender care. Like this beautiful walled garden at Delapre Abbey in Northampton...


The metaphors of gardening and the cycle of the seasons are useful ones in relation to the spiritual journey of our lives. In his meditation, Spring won't take 'No' for an answer, Unitarian Universalist minister Richard S. Gilbert speaks of "the changing seasons of the self." The self's seasons change not only as we grow older, but also within shorter periods of time - sometimes even in the same day, as we move through our daily lives. Last weekend, for example, I received two pieces of bad news, which were then (at least partially) eclipses by an amazing piece of good news, so that my thoughts ricocheted from worry and sadness to great joy, in the space of a few hours.

Which reminded me that my mind and my emotions are quite separate entities. It was my emotions which were all over the place, and I had to bring my mind to bear on the rapidly evolving situation, to regain some stability and balance. As the Thought for Today author put it, "Thoughts have great power, they are like seeds you plant in your mind. The more you hold onto a particular thought, the more power you invest in it. Positive thoughts give us energy and strength. Negative thoughts rob us of power and make us feel tired and strained."

It is not only the gardens of our individual minds which need careful tending, but also the gardens of our faith and other communities. We have to be really careful about the plants we allow to take root and grow there, tending the positive ones with care, and uprooting the negative ones, before they take deep root and strangle our efforts to grow and thrive.

And yet, to extend the metaphor even further, we are not responsible for each other's gardens, each other's minds. Yes, we each have some responsibility for our communal gardens, but we also need to recognise that all of us have plants to contribute. In her piece Gardening is Necessary, which appeared in the first volume of With Heart and Mind, Unitarian Betty Rathbone wrote, "We should see that we have our own patch in order, rather than trying to impose our ideas on other people and their affairs." And (perhaps more importantly) "We should expect to live with change and see the whole cycle of life from tender beginnings to growth and decay as valuable, not expect to be able to stay all the time with the bits that we enjoy most. We need to realise where we are in our life cycle and continually revise our ideas of our place in the world."

The opposite of growth (whether spiritual, communal or horticultural) is stagnation. This happens when we are reluctant to embrace change, harking back to the (almost mythical) "good old days" of the distant past. Which can make us want to recreate it, however impossible that might be. And yes, I get it. Change can be frightening. But I believe we are doing ourselves a great disservice if we close our minds to change, strangling the new shoots which will keep cropping up, however often we try to weed them out.

I believe it is worth embracing change and growth for ourselves and for those we care about. So let us tend the gardens of our minds and our communities with assiduous care, choosing only the best seeds, which will grow into the most glorious flowers. Because each one of us has something positive to contribute to our future communities, our future selves.



Friday 9 February 2024

Setting Our Priorities

The 20th century philosopher and author, Albert Camus, once wrote something like, "The greatest saving that can be made in the world of thinking is to accept the incomprehensibility of the world and to take care of people."


Which sounds like a tempting philosophy on one level. In that I agree it is better to spend our time taking care of the people in our world, rather than navel-gazing in a fruitless attempt to understand the incomprehensible.

Yet on another level, don't we have a duty of care to the wider world too? Shouldn't we be doing what we can to try to understand how we might save the planet from climate change, save the innumerable species of animals, insects, plants and other living beings from imminent extinction? It is not just people who matter. And, don't we also have a duty to try to understand how the world works (or perhaps, more accurately fails to work, at least on a human level), in the context of the great interdependence of all life? It's a trickier question than it first sounds.

Because if we don't bother trying to understand how our actions as part of the world impact that same world, how can we minimise our negative impacts and maximise our positive ones? Then, once we do begin to understand that, to put it into practice.

Which is why I recently bought The Climate Book*, a 400+ page large format hardback, in which climate justic activist Greta Thunberg, has brought together all the latest thinking about the climate crisis into one place. In her introduction, she writes, "In 2021, I invited a great number of leading scientists and experts, and activists, authors and storytellers to contribute... This book... covers everything from melting ice shelves to economics, from fast fashion to the loss of species, from pandemics to vanishing islands, from deforestation to the loss of fertile soils, from water shortages to Indigenous sovereignty, from future food production to carbon budgets - and it lays bare the actions of those responsible and the failures of those who should have already shared this information with the citizens of the world."



It is an incredibly well-written but sobering read. I am working my way through it with increasing horror for the mess we are making of our blue-green planet. It is daunting, and tempting to wonder how the actions of any one individual could make a positive difference in the face of the complex problems facing the planet. But that is copping out. At the very end, she includes four short sections, with the following titles:
  • What needs to be done
  • What we can do together as a society
  • What you can do as an individual
  • Some of us can do more than others (including politicians, media and TV producers, journalist, and celebrities and influencers)
So yes, I agree with Camus that we need to care for people. But we also need to understand how the actions of people impact the wider world, so that we can do our best to save it, and encourage others to do the same. Because, it is nearly too late...

*The Climate Book created by Greta Thunberg. Allen Lane, 2022.





Friday 2 February 2024

Nothing Occurs at Random

This week I have come across a pre-Socratic Greek philosopher named Leucippus. According to Wikipedia, he "is credited with developing the philosophical school of atomism. He proposed that all things are made up of microscopic, indivisible particles that interact and combine to produce all the things of the world." He developed this theory with his student Democritus, in the 5th century BCE.

But the Wikipedia article is careful to point out that there are great differences between Leucippus's 'atomism' and modern atomic theory: "Instead of the purely material atoms of Leucippus, modern atomic theory shows that fundamental forces combine subatomic particles into atoms and link atoms together into molecules."

In his work, On Mind, he wrote, "Nothing occurs at random, but everything from reason and by necessity." Yet at the same time, he rejected the idea that there was an intelligent force (or deity) controlling the universe.


I'm not sure I agree with him. "Nothing occurs at random, but everything from reason and by necessity." In which case, where does free will fit in? If everything occurs "by necessity", then what difference can we, as human beings, make to the world? 

I would rather believe that, although there are many forces at play in how events in our world come to pass, nevertheless, the actions of individual human beings can make a difference. There is a theory that a small stone, placed in exactly the right place in a river, can change the course of that river. In human terms, the actions or words of a single person, done or said at exactly the right time, can change the beliefs of a whole society, its awareness of a particular situation that people have (up until that point) accepted unthinkingly. For example, Rosa Parks sitting down on a bus, and refusing to get up because a white person wanted her seat, is an example of one small action ultimately making a huge difference.

So I believe that it is possible to make a positive difference, by our actions and words. That nothing is inevitable, although I completely understand why things may seem to be so. It takes a lot of courage to go against the accepted flow of one's society, to stand up for the possibility of a new and better way of doing things, a new and better way of human interaction.

I suppose that the second part of Leucippus's quote may cover this: that "everything [occurs] from reason"... so it is when a person (or people) use their innate reasoning powers and come up with new understandings of the world, that change becomes possible.

Or, just possibly, it is when a person listens to the "still small voice" of their conscience, or of God inside them (depending on your beliefs) that they become able to grow and change and interact with the world around them in a more positive way.

To conclude, while we may believe that nothing occurs at random, there are very many forces at work in the world, which influence the things which do occur, including human free will, reason, and conscience.









Friday 26 January 2024

Say What, Man?

The contemporary German author and philosopher, Philipp HĂ¼bl, writes, "We can smoke a joint and simply enjoy it, or additionally ask ourselves whether we are narrowing or expanding our consciousness in this way, and what is meant by it at all."


I suppose it depends on whether we have enquiring minds. I don't mind confessing at this late date that I used to occasionally smoke weed in my twenties and, as far as I can remember, I simply enjoyed feeling spaced out and giggly. My consciousness (if you could call it that) narrowed to enjoying the sensations of the here and now, rather than pondering the answers to the ultimate questions of Life, the Universe and Everything. (42, of course)

But I understand that other, stronger drugs, which I never tried, did have the effect of expanding the consciousness - such as LSD. But the dangers of experimentation had been well drilled into me and I never smoked or took any of them.

These days, I neither drink nor smoke. My one remaining vice is vaping. Which is not to say there are no opportunities to narrow or expand my consciousness. On the contrary, they are there for the taking, whenever I choose to live mindfully, concentrating on the present moment - now, and now and now. Or whenever I choose to think deeply about important questions - social, political, cultural, spiritual. No drugs required.

Sometimes it can be tempting to simply enjoy the moment, and to ignore what is going on in the world around us. The news rarely seems to be good and it can often feel overwhelming - we (or at least I) start to feel that there is nothing I can do about (whatever the latest catastrophe is), so why bother?

But I believe that kind of thinking is fatal - we cannot afford to ignore what is happening under our noses. We have a duty to respond as compassionately as we feel able. I think it is no accident that the words "conscience" and "consciousness" come from the same root. When we become aware of something bad happening in the world, our conscience is awakened and it is up to us to do what we can, where we are, to alleviate the situation. Or at the very least, not make it worse by doing nothing. 

In his wonderful book, The Screwtape Letters, the senior devil, Screwtape, tells his apprentice, Wormwood: "Nothing is very strong: strong enough to steal away a man's best years not in sweet sins but in a dreary flickering of the mind over it knows not what and knows not why, in the gratification of curiosities so feeble that the man is only half aware of them."

I believe that this is the most dangerous state of all - to become so apathetic that we cannot be bothered about anything. We owe ourselves, we owe the world around us, more than that. 




Friday 19 January 2024

Actively Seeking Happiness

The 20th century French philosopher, Alain, (real name Émile-Auguste Chartier) once wrote, "You have to want to be happy and do your part thereto. If you persist in the attitude of impartial spectator, merely holding the door open to happiness, only sadness will enter."


I'm not sure I entirely agree with him. Because sometimes, actively seeking happiness can lead to always living in the future (the If Only mindset) and never being content with what is happening to us in the present. Which can lead to great unhappiness... Unless he means that it is in our power to control our reactions to our experiences, and are able to choose to what extent X or Y makes us happy or sad, in which case, I do agree. 

As human beings, we do have a certain amount of control over our reactions. We can learn to be resilient, refusing to be ground down by negative experiences. We can choose to either make the best of a bad situation, or to allow it to crush us. We can also learn to be on the lookout for small moments of wonder and grace in our lives, which will lead to happiness if we choose to appreciate them as they occur.

I can speak to this from immediate personal experience. Yesterday, my husband drove me to Danetre Hospital to have an x-ray and get the final dressing removed from my foot. And I had high (and, on reflection, incredibly naive) hopes about it: I thought that after six weeks, it would be All Better and I would be able to get back to normal, just like that.

And the news was very good. I saw the talented surgeon who did the operation, and both he and I were delighted by the results. The angle between the base of my big toe and the next door one had been 33 degrees; it is now 14 degrees - a massive improvement. In the long term, it's going to be far less painful to walk and to wear shoes.

But, the time to a full recovery is going to be slow, far slower than I had hoped and expected, having no prior experience of such an injury. I still have to sit with my foot elevated except when I'm walking around the house once an hour, I will need to massage the toes once a day for two minutes using E45, and wear trainers inside and outdoors to support the foot. I am only allowed to build up my walking very gradually - 10 minutes the first day, then by 5 minute increments, and no long walks for another three months. I am not allowed to drive for another fortnight, and no distance driving for a further month after that. Plus which, I will need to take a break every hour on a long journey and elevate my foot for 15 minutes. 

Oh, and I should expect some swelling and pain for up to six months... and of course, my toes were really sore for the rest of the day, having had pins removed from both the 2nd and 3rd ones.

My initial reaction was negative: I sat around for the rest of the day, feeling very fed up and sorry for myself. It took a while to get over my disappointment, although on reflection, I should have expected this news. I now understand that the operation was a massive "insult" to my foot (to use my surgeon's term) and that of course the recovery is going to take a while. That I am very lucky to be in a situation where my husband can continue to do the things I can't, and to have a warm and cosy house and a reclining armchair which enables me to work with my foot up.

So I have nixed the pity party and have resolved to be both cheerful and patient in the weeks and months to come, trusting that my foot will heal completely in its own good time. So to that extent, I am following Alain's advice, and being an active participant in my own happiness.



 


Friday 12 January 2024

Remaining Human Matters

The 18th century Scottish philosopher, David Hume, once wrote, "Be a philosopher; but amidst all your philosophy, be still a man."


Which is wise advice. But I think it applies to whatever job we are doing, whatever our role in life is. Although Hume was writing centuries before people began to worry about maintaining a healthy balance between work / whatever our personal obsession is, and our personal lives, this is what this quotation is about.

It is only too easy to become so embroiled and invested in the one part of our lives we are passionate about (whether that is our work, our family, a particular hobby, the book we're reading, our political or religious/spiritual beliefs) that we lose sight of everything else that is going on around us. To the detriment of the people and situations we are ignoring.

Because there is a difference between focus and obsession. The ability to focus on the present task is a good thing, as it enables us to be productive and useful contributors to society. It is not only about getting the present task done. If we are focussed, we will knuckle down and get the job done. And then rest, returning tired but satisfied to the rest of our lives.

But, if we allow ourselves to become obsessed with the present task, our lives become unbalanced, as we focus on that present task, oblivious to whatever else is happening around us. There is a seriously irritating British Airways advert on Channel 4 at the moment, which makes this point clearly. An actress dressed as a high-powered business woman tells the viewer about the benefits of being on holiday, the importance of finding a good work/life balance, but she has her laptop and mobile phone with her...

I have been guilty of obsession on occasions - most often when I'm engrossed in a new book. I will read and read and read, stopping only for meals. And I'm well aware how infuriating this is to my nearest and dearest. 

The danger of being obsessed about something is that our vision becomes skewed, and we are unable to see or understand any point of view which is in conflict with continuing working on whatever it is. Which can be very hurtful for those around us, and can alienate the very people we are trying to influence.




To quote another (very old) advert "A Mars a day helps you work, rest, and play." That is what David Hume is talking about; that is what we should be aiming for. Work, rest, and play are all important parts of our lives and should be in balance with each other.


Friday 5 January 2024

Not Choosing is Also a Choice

The French Existentialist philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, once wrote, "I can always choose, but I ought to know that if I do not choose, I am still choosing."


When I read those words, I recognised their truth straight away. I think that what he is saying, is that each human being has free will (I would say, God-given free will, with which I'm sure Sartre would disagree) and so it is up to each and every one of us to exercise that free will, by making choices in our lives.  Because if we choose *not* to make a choice about something, then that is the choice of apathy, and the only thing that achieves is to make us passengers in our own stories, rather than drivers. (For example, people who do not exercise their right to vote, believing that their single vote will make no difference. It does.)

According to Wikipedia, Sartre's "primary idea is that people, as humans, are 'condemned to be free.' He explained, 'This may seem paradoxical because condemnation is normally an external judgement which constitutes the conclusion of a judgement. Here, it is the not the human who has chosen to be like this... Their being is not determined, so it is up to everyone to create their own existence, for which they are then responsible. They cannot not be free, there is a form of necessity for freedom, which can never be given up.'"

It might be argued that there are situations we might find ourselves in, when no obvious choice is possible. But I think Sartre is saying that it is always possible for us to make a choice, even if the only choice we can make is how we respond to our situation. But that we do have the responsibility to make that choice. As he wrote, "it is up to everyone to create their own existence, for which they are then responsible."

For example, during the last month, I have been told to sit with my foot up all day long, except for taking a brief hurple around the downstairs rooms once an hour. And I have chosen to obey that dictum, so that my foot will heal better and more quickly. I have also chosen to make the best of it, by setting up a table alongside my chair, on which my journals, pens and laptops sit, ready for use. I bought myself a cheap lap tray, which has been a boon and a blessing, because it has enabled me to write and work without having to attempt balancing anything on my legs. I've also chosen to embrace the chance of spending more time writing and crocheting than I normally would...

I could have chosen to moan, whinge and complain about the enforced inactivity, but I have chosen instead to "make the best of it". And I believe that the choice to make the best of whatever hand fate or life deals us, is the finest choice in the world. Because it gives us agency in our lives. And that is precious.