Wishing, Dreaming, Doing

This week's quote consists of three injunctions: "Wish it, dream it, do it!"

According to my trusty Concise Oxford Dictionary, each of those verbs has a different meaning, and could be described as steps along a road. To wish is to "have a desire or aspiration" or "want with the kind of desire that affects the result". To dream is to "have visions", "believe possible", "contemplate the possibility of." To do is to "perform, carry out, effect, complete, bring to pass."

So wishing for something is the first step. Our desire or aspiration may be simple, "I wish I could lose ten pounds" or  "I wish I could finish writing my novel" or complicated, "I wish I could do something about climate change."

The next step is dreaming, when our mind begins to ruminate about how we might achieve our wish, whatever it is. This is when we contemplate various possibilities - the research phase, if you like. We might investigate different diets, think about joining a gym or going for a daily walk, or consider how we might carve out some time each day to write. Or we might start to follow news stories about people and agencies who are working to combat climate change, and learn about how we might (in whatever way) make a difference.

The final step is doing, when we move from the theoretical to the practical - we give up sugar, do some exercise, set our alarm an hour earlier so that we have time to write before work. Or we might join a climate activist group, go on a demonstration, lobby our MP, make a commitment to use only eco-friendly products in our home, recycle more, repair things instead of throwing them away.

Most of us need to go through this three-step process before we actually commit to "doing", the most important of the three steps. Yet the first two, "wishing" and "dreaming" are also important, as without them, we might never get to the "doing" phase. And the fire they have lit in our souls may keep us going in hard times, when the diet has plateaued, we're suffering from writer's block, and our governments are still not taking climate change seriously. Very few people have the motivation to carry on trying their best, without wishes and dreams to bolster them.

Our Favourite Song

 This week's quote reads, "Life is not a wish concert, but sometimes it plays your favourite song."

Which I suppose means that sometimes, our heart's desire will happen... the part about playing your favourite song reminded me of being a teenager, when Radio 1 would be playing on the bus on the way to school and back again, and the joy of hearing my current favourite single - whether that was by T. Rex, David Bowie, Status Quo or Queen, to name but a few - during the short journey, rather than other tracks I disliked. Because of course in those days, before mobile phones and apps such as Spotify, we were very much at the mercy of what the radio DJs chose to play. (I'm so old that this was even before the invention of Sony Walkmans [Walkmen??] - it was the radio or nothing).The worst case scenario was a journey filled with music I disliked, the best case scenario was the opposite. But it was out of my control. 

Taken less literally, I guess it is talking about moments of grace, when something marvellous happens when we are least expecting it. Perhaps we are walking under a cloud-covered sky, and the sun comes out, and the world is transformed. Or we open our e-mails, and there is good news about the health of a loved one. Or our book is accepted for publication... there are so many small joys to be savoured and appreciated, so many "favourite songs" which are waiting for us to wake up and listen to them.

Sometimes, it is more about finding the silver lining (to coin a cliché) in an unpleasant situation... which happened to me as recently as yesterday. I was on my way back home from the Nightingale Centre in the Peak District, after a rich and nourishing Ministerial Fellowship Conference, when the front right tyre on my car blew out at speed on the M1. Luckily I managed to get to the hard shoulder safely and, double-luckily, we are members of a breakdown service, so all I needed to do was ring them up and wait to be recovered. The downside was, it took two solid hours from the moment I rang them to the moment the breakdown truck arrived. I moved to the passenger side of the car, because passing lorries were coming alarmingly close to my car and making it rock and sway. I was not a happy bunny!

Silver linings: while I was waiting, the call-centre guy from Autohome rang me twice to check I was still okay and safe, and an officer of the Highways Agency also stopped to check the same. I really appreciated their kindness and care. And (crucially) I had my Kindle with me, and an interesting book to read.... But I was very glad to get home (especially as I had decided to skip lunch to get home an hour earlier!).

Keeping Our Balance

 This week's quote reads, "To keep your balance, you must keep moving."

Nope. Sorry, whoever wrote this, I don't agree. In order to find our balance, and then maintain it, the first necessity is stillness. Or at least, that is what I have found.

Because if we are constantly moving, how are we to find any kind of still centre? For most of us, the first half of life (and probably later than that) is all about keeping moving - about discovering who we are, what we love, what we're good at, finding our "tribe" of people, whether those be family, friends, our faith or some other community, or a mixture of all of them. The first half of life is all about striving, achieving, moving on, moving up, moving, moving.

Successful people can run away from themselves for years. They (and I count my younger self among them) skate across the surface of their lives, achieving, dazzling. It often takes some traumatic event (the loss of a loved one, or a devastating failure) to bring us up short. When this happens (and it generally does, at some point in our lives) our balance is lost and we find that there is no still centre around which we can regain it.

If we are lucky (and I was) there will be some wise friend or mentor around to give us advice. Which, for many of us, will be to stop moving, to sit in silence, to simply be. I have found that this (together with walking alone in nature) are the only ways of keeping my balance, and of discovering a new balance, a quiet centre. I was afraid of loneliness for much of my life and found the company of people infinitely preferable. But I believe that my decisions to quit smoking and drinking, combined with my interior spiritual journey in the early 2010s (still continuing) helped me to welcome solitude as a time to think, to reflect, to spend time in my own company, to come nearer to the Divine. These days, when I spend too much time in the company of too many people, I need a lot of time alone to come back to myself, to regain my balance.

True extroverts will find this hard to understand, but introverts and ambiverts will be reading with little cries of recognition. I'm not saying "I want to be alone" like Greta Garbo, but that I need a balance between being with people and being on my own. These days, I have found a balance I am comfortable with: I like to spend most of my daytime hours alone, working, or writing, or crocheting, but enjoy coming back into congenial company during the evening, with Maz and Luna. I love spending time with my best friend, and with my close family, but drop back into my customary routine with - no, relief is the wrong word. It is like slipping one's feet into a pair of comfortable slippers and sitting in one's favourite armchair, deeply relaxed, after a busy day.

How do you keep your balance?

           

Coping Badly

This week's blogpost nearly didn't happen: I am staying up in the Lake District with my best friend, and have forgotten to bring my computer mouse with me. I have my laptop, but no mouse. And I am finding it incredibly difficult, and teeth-grindingly frustrating, to use the laptop's tracking pad. I even had to ask my friend what it is called!

Which has made me realise what a creature of habit I am. With my mouse, I scroll down effortlessly, place the cursor at any spot I choose without effort, and generally just get on with whatever I'm writing. But I am having to laboriously learn how to move around a document, how to copy and paste, how to scroll down, all accompanied with much cursing. Nothing is labelled and I have to guess where to click on the tracking pad to get it to do what I need it to. Grrr!

Most of you will probably be laughing at my incompetence, yet the frustration is real. I have no desire to learn this new skill - I'm used to my mouse, and will return to it on Sunday with little coos of joy.

It has been a salutary reminder that the only constant in life is change and that I need to keep up, and somehow embrace it, rather than reacting so negatively, as I have this morning. I am embarrassed that the lack of a mouse has thrown me for such a loop - I had thought I was more adaptable. I can remember learning how to use a mouse in the early 1990s - my son was three and we had just bought our first home PC. There was a little game, consisting of putting a jigsaw of four pieces together, using the mouse, which my son mastered effortlessly, but I found so difficult.... 

So I have persevered, and this blogpost is the result. 

Interruptions Welcome

This week's quote reads, "Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans." 

And I had to laugh, if a bit ruefully. I used to be a fairly uptight, perfectionist, person, making plans for every aspect of my day, easily upset if something happened to de-rail them. Which has happened just this minute: I have taken a photo of the postcard on my phone and e-mailed it to myself, so that I can include it in this post. But it hasn't come through, and unless it does so in the next half-hour or so, this post will be without an illustration.

A few years ago, this would have caused me to gnash my teeth, get annoyed. But now I thought, oh well, never mind. Worse things happen at sea (to coin a cliché). The skies will not fall if this post does not have an illustration, far from it. How many people read my blogposts anyway?

During the past decade or so, mainly thanks to the wonderful Brené Brown, and her book, The Gifts of Imperfection, I have learned to become a recovering perfectionist, much more able to let my precious plans go, and enjoy what comes up instead. It is a much richer, more rewarding way to live. I know I have posted about this fairly recently, here, and laughed out loud when I discovered the post under the tag 'perfectionsim'. And feel no inclination to edit the post and correct the typo. Which is surely progress?

Because, as I said in that post, "life is messy, chaotic, unpredictable, and we cannot dictate how it will turn out. The one thing we can predict with some certainty is that it will not be perfect. No-one's life is perfect. And so the important thing to realise is that settling for "good enough" will ensure that in the long run, we are far happier than we would be if we were constantly yearning for the 'perfect' life."

I also believe that if we are too fixated on our precious plans, we can miss many spontaneous joys. For example, if my DH and I go on holiday, we have a general idea of some places we would like to visit, but are happy to play it by ear and go with the weather, go with the flow. Which has resulted in some gorgeous, unexpected events. Like bumping into Will Kirk of The Repair Shop at the Weald and Downland Museum a few weeks ago - he was charming.

Life is much more enjoyable when we allow a little spontaneity into it, plans or no plans... Interruptions welcome.

A Chain Begins with Two Links

 This week's quote reads, "I would now be ready for a chain of happy circumstances."

 

And I thought, o-kay... what does that mean? It is a statement of hope for a happy future, but surely there is more to it than that? Then it struck me: a chain begins with two links. If there is only one link, it is not a chain, it is a loop. Going nowhere. So perhaps in order to be happy, in order to experience "happy circumstances" we need to open our single loop and make connections with other people, get involved in the world around us. 

Which takes vulnerability, trust and courage. When we look around our world and see so much senseless hatred (witness the dreadful attack on the Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester yesterday - my heart goes out to all the people involved, suffering for the idiocy of the Israeli government) our instinct can be to hunker down, draw up the drawbridge and hide. It takes courage to stand up and protest, to reach out with compassion. As my own faith community, the Unitarians, have done. Yesterday, when news of the attack began to spread, the following statement appeared on Facebook:

"We are shocked and saddened by today's attack at Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester. We know that this will be felt deeply by Manchester's Jewish community, their families and their wider communities, particularly on the holy day of Yom Kippur.

We stand for peace and oppose violence in all its forms.

An attack on any place of worship is an attack on all who value freedom of faith and conscience. Places of worship should be sanctuaries; safe spaces for reflection, community and spiritual life. As Unitarians, we are committed to interfaith solidarity and to building communities where people of all faiths and none can live without fear. That commitment matters most in moments like this.

Rev Cody Coyne, minister of Cross Street Unitarian Chapel, Manchester City Centre, and President of the Manchester District Association, said: 'It can feel so much like hate is winning; but I think how each act is met with people running in to care for the victims, give solace to the bereaved, and in some cases placing their lives on the line for the sake of others. For each person committed to violence there is an overwhelming chorus calling us to act for peace and support.'"

This is how chains of connection are built - by standing up for what we know is right and refusing to allow hate to win. Every time we stand up for love and oppose mindless hate, a new link is forged.

Keep Your Head Up!

 This week's quote reads, "Keep your head up! Otherwise, you won't be able to see the stars."

It is a good reminder. There are many reasons why people walk around with their heads down, unaware of what is going on around them. Perhaps we are "in our head", preoccupied with our thoughts; perhaps we keep our eyes down to avoid meeting the eyes of anyone else we encounter; or (worst of all, in my view) we are so engrossed in our mobile phone screen that we are oblivious to the real world. 

Maybe I'm getting old, but it never ceases to astonish me when I see people walking around buried in their phones. They are missing out on so much - real life, going on around them.

Holding our heads up can also be a sign of self-worth. We are not afraid to meet the eyes of other people, are comfortable in our own skin. Which is a vulnerable act, and takes courage. Because I also appreciate that for many people, who do not, for one reason or another (like skin colour, sexuality, neurodiversity) "fit in" with the majority, flying under the radar is important for their safety; meeting the eyes of the dominant majority can be potentially dangerous. I hope there are places where they feel secure enough to raise their heads and be with their community and watch the stars.

But the most important reason to keep our heads up, in my opinion, is exactly what the quote states: "otherwise you won't be able to see the stars". Or the rest of the wonders of the world, all around us. My DH and I have recently spent a week in West Sussex (based near Chichester) and spent our time sight-seeing. We saw much to wonder at - the glories of Chichester Cathedral (see below), the different period buildings at the Weald and Downland Museum, Arundel Castle, and the beauty of the South Downs. None of which we would have been able to appreciate, had we not been looking around us, keenly aware of our surroundings. 

The Shape of Grief

I found the image below on Facebook the other day, and it fits my mood perfectly, as it is coming up to one year since my darling Mum died. "Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was deep love."

I miss her so much. Miss being able to share silly, little, everyday things - the latest doings of our grandsons, progress with a crochet or stitching project, shopping for my daughter's wedding dress, how I'm feeling, any particular day. The number of times in the last twelve months I have thought, "I must tell Mum that," and then remembered, again, that I can't. That she is gone.

I cannot wish her back. She was nearly 93, and had commented numerous times in the last couple of years of her life, "I'm ready to go." I hope she is at peace, wherever she is (she was a sound atheist and believed that death was the end of all things). 

It's a weird process, grieving for someone you have loved deeply. At first, it is all consuming, and you think you'll never get over it. You cannot believe that they are really gone, that you will never be able to talk to them, hold them, love them, ever again. Then, time passes, and time heals, and you regain something of an even keel, even though one sweet core of your life is gone forever. But then, something reminds you, and the loss is raw and wild once again. Or that is what I have found. 

And yet, the love remains. I am who I am - mother, grandmother, friend, minister - because she loved me well. And that is what I miss most of all - her unconditional love. She had boundless love and compassion for others, especially her family. And was friendly with everyone she met. She had a knack of striking up conversations with strangers, which I have inherited, a bit. And every time I do, I think of her.

Bless you, Mum. I love you. 

World of Wonders

This week's quote reads, "The world is full of wonders. One of them is me."

Which is a nice thought. But I wonder, how many of us believe it? I certainly do not see myself as a "wonder of the world".  I am a flawed, imperfect human being, just like everyone else. My first reaction to this quote was to think that the only people who do see themselves as "wonders of the world" are misguided and egocentric, even narcissistic. A certain orange President comes to mind...

But on reflection, I'm not sure I'm right. Perhaps there is another way to look at it, to think of ourselves. Perhaps it is about accepting ourselves as we are, flaws and all, and being grateful and in awe about the body, mind, and spirit that is ours alone. Each of us is unique, each of us has a very particular contribution to make to the world, that nobody else can make. 

I have blogged before about the importance of this, here. And am unapologetic about repeating part of that post, Brené Brown's definition of authenticity:

"Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we are supposed to be and embracing who we are. Choosing authenticity means:

 - cultivating the courage to be imperfect, to set boundaries, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable.

 - exercising the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle.

 - nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we believe that we are enough."

Perhaps it's not so much about being a "wonder of the world", it's more about showing up as our faulty and fallible selves, recognising those flaws and failings and, nevertheless, doing what we can, where we are, with the gifts we have been given, to make a positive difference in the world. Which means living in consonance with our values and daring to take a stand on the things which matter to us, regardless of whether it will make us unpopular, get us into trouble.

So yes, each and every one of us can be a "wonder of the world"; "unique, precious, a child of God" (to quote the Quakers; and can do our best to make a difference, using the talents which are ours alone.

May it be so - all our talents are needed, in this flawed and imperfect (yet also wonderful) world of ours.

Enjoying the Present

This week's quote took my breath away, with its logical simplicity: "Those who enjoy the present will have a wonderful past in the future."

And yet, living by it would be a profound spiritual practice, which could take the rest of my life. I have long believed that the present moment is the key to our happiness; that being fully present in it, through sacred living, paying attention in the present moment and perceiving the sacred everywhere, is so rewarding. It means noticing everything around us, appreciating everything around us, and not wasting our time regretting the past (which we can never change, no matter how much we mope about it), neither wishing we were back in the "good old days" (which never existed outside our faulty memories), nor longing to an idealised, impossible future. I have blogged about this here. 

I truly believe that "today", the present moment, is the only place at which time touches eternity. So it is up to us to attempt to be truly present in each passing moment, whether it is subjectively "good" or "bad". If we can master this trick of being present, I believe that our reward is that we will be much happier in the good bits, and more able to endure the bad bits, because we know they will not last forever.

When I look back at my own life, from the perspective of being 65, there are (of course) parts which did not go well, that I choose not to dwell upon. I guess I have been lucky, because when I look back, I feel very blessed - most of my past has been "wonderful". Part of that is the rose-coloured spectacles through which I view it, I'm sure, but part is also that I have striven, all my life, to enjoy the present, as much as I can. Which is why my autobiography has the title, Saying 'Yes' to Life.

For example, I'm sitting at my desk now, writing this blogpost, and if I raise my eyes to the window, I see the tree in the back garden, highlighted by the morning sun, which is my daily companion as I write. Today, its first leaves are beginning to turn brown, but it is mostly still lush and green. And it is silhouetted against a lovely blue sky with fluffy white clouds - such a nice change from the rain of yesterday. And I am (again) filled with awe and wonder at the sheer beauty in front of my eyes.

Self Acceptance

This week's quote is simple to read, yet hard to interpret. It says, "The most beautiful thing about me is me."

Because it can be interpreted in different ways. One negative way is to be so full of yourself that you believe you are the most important person in the world / your community and that everyone else should do as you say and believe what you believe. I am sure we can all think of a particular American politician who fulfils this brief to the hilt. And of all the negative effects that his narcissism is having on both the States and the wider world.

But most of us do not believe this of ourselves. Most of us have huge chunks of self-doubt, self-loathing to contend with. And so, when we get up in the morning, we put on the Mask, as a shield between our vulnerable selves and the world. As an attempt to fit in, to be accepted by others. And only take it off last thing at night, before sleep. And in between, we spend far too much time on social media, comparing ourselves disparagingly to others. This is also an unhealthy state of being, and a very unhappy way of living.

True self-acceptance is only possible after a lot of hard shadow work, undertaken over a long period of time. To be able to say (and truly mean) "the most beautiful thing about me is me" involves accepting all of ourselves, not only the bits we're proud of, but the small, mean, difficult bits, which we try so hard to hide from other people. There will always be parts of us we are unhappy with, but we have to somehow learn to love them anyway. Which means recognising our flaws, digging deep, finding their positive side (because there is a positive side to all of them) and then integrating them into our deepest selves. And recognising that we will never be perfect, that no-one is, and that is all right.

There are many self-help books, many processes we might follow to do this, including therapy and spiritual direction. In my own case, Debbie Ford's The Dark Side of the Light Chasers, Brené Brown's The Gifts of Imperfection and Daring Greatly, and Richard Rohr's Discovering the Enneagram were the most influential, plus (crucially in my case) being held so that I could do the work, by an empathic spiritual director. But whatever works for you is fine.

Every one of us is of is "unique, precious, a child of God" to quote the Quakers. And infinitely worth of being treated with dignity and respect, including by ourselves.

Footprints in the Sands of Time

The 19th century poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote, in A Psalm of Life, "Lives of great men all remind us /  we can make our lives sublime, / and departing, leave behind us / footprints on the sands of time." The 20th century American motivational speaker, Bob Moawad, coined a pithy variation on this: "You can't make footprints in the sands of time if you're sitting on your butt."

In other words, if we want to make a difference in the world, we need to get up and do something. There is no use sitting back and expecting other people to solve the problems of the world - we each need to do what we can, where we are, with the talents we have. Which may not be much, but to pinch a well-known supermarket's slogan, "Every little helps."

Yet it has to be considered action. It's no good just leaping up from our seats, rushing off, and doing the first thing which occurs to us. Or simply throwing money at a problem and hoping it will go away. No, we need to think hard and consult with others to find the best long-term solution to whatever the problem is.

Which may indeed involve "sitting on your butt" in meetings, and coming to a considered consensus. But then, it is time for action. It is no good agreeing to take action to make the world a better place, if we then drag our feet and wait for someone else to make the first move. The climate change crisis is a good example of this in action. The Paris Agreement in 2016 was excellent, in its way, but its  implementation has been slow, patchy, and inadequate.

Which is where individual activism comes in - those individual footprints on the sands of time which happen when ordinary people come together and work towards a better world, whether that is by protesting, or by making their own commitments to change the situation through their own actions. "Sitting on your butt" simply won't cut it, not any longer. If we want our children and grandchildren to inherit a sustainable planet, we need to act now.

Even a Cliché Can Hold Truth

When I read this week's quotation, my heart sank a little. It seems so obvious, so banal. "Learn from yesterday. Live for today. Hope for tomorrow."

Then I thought again. The advice may be hackneyed, oft-repeated, but it is good advice, nonetheless. If we do not learn from our experiences, both from what we have done, and from what has happened to us without our own volition, we will make the same mistakes over and over again. Regretting events of the past will not change them. The only thing we can control is our response to what has happened. 

And I have blogged often about the benefits of living in the present, about being mindful about what is happening at each passing moment. Particularly here. In that post, I shared the Sanskrit affirmation, which I'd like to share again:

        

"Look to this day - for it is life, the very life of life.

In its brief course lie all the verities and realities of your existence:

the bliss of growth, the glory of action, the splendour of beauty.

For yesterday is but a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision,

but today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness

and every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Look well, therefore, to this day."

If we can learn to take this attitude deep into ourselves, I honestly believe it can make a difference. Because if we do learn from the past, and deeply appreciate the present (which is the only point at which time touches eternity) surely there must be a sliver of hope about tomorrow? It may be hard to find, if our personal experience of the present is sad and desperate, yet without hope that the hard time will end, we may succumb to despair.

In the ancient Greek myth, Pandora opened a jar left in her care, which contained sickness, death and many other unspecified evils, which were then released into the world. In spite of her best efforts to close the jar, only one thing was contained - Hope. Wikipedia explains, "Pandora's box is a metaphor for something that brings about great troubles or misfortune, but also holds hope. Symbolically, the box represents the curiosity and desire for knowledge that can lead to both negative consequences and positive outcomes. The evils inside the box can be seen as the challenges and difficulties of life, while the hope represents the optimism and resilience to overcome those challenges."

So yes, this week's quote is good advice: Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.

Fair Exchange is No Robbery

 The proverb "fair exchange is no robbery" means that when two people agree to do something for one another, and both receive something they consider to be of equal value, neither person has been cheated. Neither monetary value nor time taken have anything to do with it. It is the value of the completed tasks which matters, and the benefit they will confer on the recipient.

I'm up in Cumbria for a few days, staying with my best friend for some R & R. And we are both yarn-crafty - she with both knitting needles and crochet hook, me with crochet hook. But just now, she much prefers knitting, which has meant that my three grandsons have benefited by some beautiful jumpers she has made them. And yesterday, we agreed to another fair exchange.

A couple of years ago, we both started to crochet Greg blankets. I finished mine, but she abandoned hers, getting bored with it. Mine is here:

Hers is quite different, being all in cream cotton. And I have made a bargain with her: I will finish her blanket over the Winter, in exchange for which she will knit me a rather gorgeous jumper. We bought the pattern and the wool in Kendal yesterday...

So we're both going to be nice and busy over the next few months. I have a blanket of my own to finish first, and she has a jumper for my oldest grandson to complete before she starts on mine. But we have agreed that we will both do our level best to complete our respective projects by the end of February 2026, which is when both our birthdays fall. Which will keep us both happy, occupied and content, knowing we are doing something which the other will appreciate, and that we will have enjoyed creating, with love in our hearts.

Win/win!

Finding a Middle Way

 This week's quote reads, "Dreamers may not have a plan, but realists have no vision."

Which strikes me as a) a bit harsh and b) a bit simplistic. I don't think the division between those who dream (whom we may perhaps call Idealists, a better counter-balance to Realists) and those who face life unflinchingly, is that straightforward, that clear-cut.

In my experience, it is often the Dreamers whose dreams lead to a plan for a better world, to direct action to achieve that dream. Martin Luther King Jr.'s famous "I have a dream" speech is perhaps idealistic, but he backed it up with solid action. And just because Realists see life as it is, doesn't mean that they too do not dream of changing the world they see around them, and make plans to bring that dream to reality. 

Another example of a very realistic, clear-eyed person who had a dream, but who worked so hard to bring it to reality, is Karen Armstrong. In her 2008 TED talk, she spoke of the Golden Rule, which all the religious faiths of the world hold in common, and of her dream of founding a Charter for Compassion, which would bring people of all faiths together to work for a better world, founded on the principles of the Golden Rule. And she did...

The vision of the Charter for Compassion is "a transformed world where all life flourishes with compassion" and its mission is to "support the emerging global movement of compassion to co-create transformation at all levels, by connecting, cultivating, and encouraging networks of compassionate action."

According to their website, the rationale for the Charter for Compassion organisation is "connecting those who care", by promoting "empathy, peace, social justice, environmental sustainability, and intercultural understanding in a world riddled in turmoil. By encouraging compassionate action the Charter for Compassion aims to create compassionate communities where individuals can connect, collaborate, and support each other in their efforts to create a more compassionate world. These communities foster a sense of belonging and provide platforms for sharing ideas, resources, and initiatives related to compassion."

I believe that the world needs both dreamers and realists, who may be one and the same person. When dreams and plans come together, the results can be wonderful.

Spreading Kindness

 This week's quote is a compliment: "Happy looks good on you."

Which reminded me how little it takes to change the shape of someone else's day - pay them a compliment, however small. I read about the impact that this can have, somewhere or other, years ago, and will sometimes wander past a tired or fed-up looking person in the supermarket and say something like "Love your dress / t-shirt / whatever." And, Every Single Time, it makes them smile, however briefly.

Some of you may have seen adverts for the Live 2 Live hoodies and t-shirts on Facebook, which have a slogan on the back, which reads, "Dear person behind me, the world is a better place with you in it. Love, the person in front of you."  On their website, they explain, "At Live 2 Live we're more than just a clothing brand - we're a movement dedicated to making a difference in the lives of those who need it most. Born from a deep commitment to mental health awareness, our mission is to create apparel that saves lives.... We believe that even the smallest gestures, like a comforting hoodie, can make a big impact.... together, let's spread the message that everyone deserves a reason to live."

And no, I'm not getting any money for flagging this up. I just think it is a brilliant idea, so I've bought one, and am looking forward to the weather being cool enough to wear it!

In a world where everyone seems to be scoring points off everyone else, I'd love to be part of a movement to make a positive difference in people's lives, by spreading a little kindness through small words or deeds, making people feel better about themselves, rather than putting them down to make myself look good. It doesn't cost anything, and it could make a heap of difference to someone we encounter.

The Power of the Different

 This week's quote reads, "Better is not possible without different."

And I think there is a lot of truth in that. While it is possible to make progress by continuing on in the same old way, it is often the introduction of the new, the different, which causes a breakthrough, makes us see life from a new perspective.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not knocking patient perseverance. On the contrary, the old adage that "practice makes perfect" has a lot of truth in it. And if we don't persevere, we will get nowhere.

I think the point I am making is that it is only possible to get so far on our own. In order to make a leap in our progress / skill / understanding, I believe that we need input from others - something different, something new. Which enables us to see (whatever it is) in a new light.

So artists, innovators and scientists like Leonardo da Vinci, Steve Jobs, Edison, the Curies (to give some random examples) come up with a new and brilliant concept, after which others follow in their footsteps, adapting and improving. But the initial spark has to come from somewhere. We even talk of it as "the lightbulb moment" or "the Eureka moment" - that instant when a new idea enters our brain and suddenly, the path forward is clear. Yes, it's going to take a lot of work (which is where the patient perseverance comes in), but the spark of that initial idea can be fanned into a flame which will warm multitudes.

This openness to the new, the different, is the great strength of humankind. The other is our ability to communicate what we have learned with others, so that they may benefit.

Of course, sadly, not all innovations are used for good purposes. We seem as a species to be distressingly good at inventing things to destroy one another and our planet... and I'm not sure what the solution to that is, if one even exists. But I hope there are enough of us striving for a better world, to make a difference.

The Power of Art

Last Wednesday, our Ministers' Meeting enjoyed a wonderful day out together, visiting Compton Verney in Warwickshire. It is mainly an art gallery, set in gorgeous grounds. The first painting we saw was a large one, An Eruption of Vesuvius by Moonlight by Pierre-Jacques Volaire (see below, apologies for slightly wonky image).

It stopped me in my tracks - such a wonderfully dramatic image. The photo above doesn't do justice to it, but the vivid contrast between the fire and energy of the volcano and the peaceful moon rising in the bay beyond it was... awesome. The explanation next to it reads, "The eruptions of Vesuvius were among the greatest spectacles of the eighteenth century and fired the imagination of artists throughout Europe... an inscription on the back records that it was painted sur le lieu (on the spot). Given the size of the painting, this is probably not true, but it conveys the important role that artists played in recording such sights before the invention of the camera."

There are several figures in the foreground, which strikes me as somewhat reckless... but each to their own, I guess.

My point in sharing this is to highlight the difference between art and photographs, which struck me at the time when I read the accompanying blurb. The art work may be almost photographic in its vivid reality, but the artist was free to compose his painting in the most skilful way in order to heighten the drama. Because what takes the breath away is the contrast between the yellows, reds, oranges and browns of the volcano and the greys, blues and whites of the peaceful, moonlit landscape. And they are balanced, juxtaposed, perfectly.

Sometimes, of course, a skilled photographer can capture such drama, contrast and balance - all of us can bring such photos to mind. My DH takes the magazine, Amateur Photographer, and there are sometimes astonishing images published in it, which achieve this magical effect. 

Whatever the medium, the power of art comes from the connection between the hand and eye of the artist and the eye and heart of the viewer. When this connection is made, it can make us (the viewers) see the world in a new way.

Sun in Your Heart

This week's quote reads, "Have sun in your heart and nonsense in your head."

Hmm. I'm not sure about the second part, but having sun in your heart does sound good. A source of warmth and illumination, which lifts our spirits, on the darkest days. For me, that of God within, the Spirit, is the "sun in your heart".

I do enjoy this time of year, when (at least in this part of the UK) there are more sunny days than rainy ones. I love drawing back the curtains each morning, to see blue skies, fluffy white clouds and sunshine. Even though part of me is uneasily aware that this has been the driest year for ages and we really could do with some rain....

There is a huge tree growing at the end of our garden and I like to feast my eyes on it, as I sit at my desk. It is now in its full Summer glory (see below) but I love it in all seasons.

The beauties of Nature call forth a deep response from me. The sun in my heart responding to the sun in the world around me. And I believe that being open to this can help us to be resilient to the darkness of the human world.

Laughter - really belly laughter, caused by amusement and joy - "nonsense in your head", if you like -  can also help us to be resilient. Last week, we watched the old film, Monty Python and the Holy Grail for the umpteenth time, and it was just as funny as the first time I saw it, way back when. Even though I knew what was coming, and could (at times) quote it word for word.

Awe, wonder, and the ability to laugh - all these qualities are precious gifts of the Spirit. For which I am truly grateful, every single day.

It Depends on Your Point of View

 This week's quote reads, "Some people feel the rain, others just get wet."

Feeling the rain... when the recent heatwave finally broke and some very welcome rain fell last Monday, I dashed outside to feel it on my face. So I guess I come into the first category.

How we respond to external stimuli depends on our state of mind, our state of heart. There is always more than one way of looking at anything: positively, negatively, or (as my DH would say) realistically. I'm a glass half-full person myself, so I tend to look on the bright side of life. Yet I recognise that this is a very privileged viewpoint: I am able to do this because I have a foundation of good things in my life to hold me up, to support me.

Each person's life is a rich tapestry of joys interwoven with sorrows. I do believe that they are inseparable, and that to feel on, you have to be open to feeling the other. And having the capacity to feel great joy and great sorrow also means that we have the capacity to love greatly. Which is surely a gift? We are living in difficult times, with terrible news breaking daily, whether it is Donald Trump bombing Iran, people starving in Gaza (and in so many other places) or the myriad species of plants and animals dying out because of our lack of care for our beleaguered planet.

Yet I also believe that there is a deep joy which comes from within us, which is not dependent on circumstances and outside events for its existence - it is a divine gift. If I may give you a personal example: the other day, I went for a walk around the fields which surround our village. The weather was beautiful. Summer was showing herself everywhere, in the ditches and the hedgerows and the fields themselves. I saw a red kite wheeling overhead, riding the thermals with such grace and majesty, and heard the pure song of a skylark. It was just gorgeous, and my heart was full of joy.

Then I came home and checked my e-mails, to find that a dear friend had died in their care home. My bubble of joy burst, and I was filled with sorrow by the news of their passing.

And yet, the fact that I had been open to the joy of the surrounding natural world helped me to be able to cope with the sorrow I felt. Without the one, the other would have hit me a lot harder. I do believe that if we live our lives vulnerably, at a deep spiritual level, feeling the rain rather than simply getting wet, we become more resilient to sorrow, as we are more open to joy.

Logic vs Imagination

This week's quote reads, "Logic takes you from point A to point B. Imagination takes you wherever you want."

There is a place for both, in most of our lives. Logic is needed for when we have particular tasks to do, and need to get from point A to point B. And for problem solving, and for keeping a cool head, when all around are losing theirs.

But imagination, which frees our minds from all bonds, is the richer of the two, I think. With my writer's hat on, I recall that the fantasy author, George R.R. Martin, famously divided writers into architects and gardeners - those who plan and outline their novels before writing, and those who make it up as they go along: discovery writers.

I have always considered myself to be a discovery writer, but when I was working on my fantasy trilogy, The Stones of Veylindré, I found myself falling into a third camp, which I christened "landscape gardeners". These I defined as writers who decide what to write as they go along, but also have a clear idea of what the final 'garden' will look like. I spent a good deal of time world-building - drawing a map, thinking about the history, geography, politics, culture and magic systems of my world. And had a rough idea of the journey my characters were going to go on. But as I wrote each chapter, it took unexpected turns as I 'discovered' what happened next.

I believe the same dichotomy applies to our spiritual / religious journeys. Unitarians used to be known as 'Rational Dissenters'. According to Wikipedia, "In the 18th century, one group of Dissenters became known as 'Rational Dissenters'. In many respects they were closer to the Anglicanism of their day than other Dissenting sects; however, they believed that state religions impinged on the freedom of conscience. They... desired an educated ministry and an orderly church, but they based their opinions on the Bible and on reason rather than on appeals to tradition and authority. They rejected doctrines such as original sin or Trinity, arguing that they were irrational. Rational Dissenters believed that Christianity and faith could be dissected and evaluated using the newly emerging discipline of science, and that a stronger belief in God would be the result."

This summary was generally true of Unitarianism in Britain right up to the 1960s, I think. However, since then, a more mystical strain has arrived and, while we still insist on the primacy of freedom of conscience, we have also found room for diverse spiritual paths, and are far less likely to "dissect and evaluate" our faith. We have found that there is room for imagination, for mystery, for embracing all kinds of spiritual practices from diverse faith traditions, for faith working alongside reason. And I think we are all the better for it.

Be Yourself

 This week's quote reads, "In a world where you can be anything... be yourself!"

I have blogged before about the importance of this, here. And am unapologetic about repeating part of that post, Brené Brown's definition of authenticity:

"Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we are supposed to be and embracing who we are. Choosing authenticity means:

* cultivating the courage to be imperfect, to set boundaries, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable

*exercising the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle

* nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we believe that we are enough."

Which is the key to being yourself, in my opinion. It is also the work of a lifetime. Most of us will fall short of this ideal, for much of our lives. Because it is such a brave path to follow. It means that we no longer care about fitting in, being perfect. Being our genuine, real selves is what matters. It means living in consonance with our values and daring to take a stand on the things which matter to us, regardless of whether it will make us unpopular, get us into trouble.

The part of this week's quote that I struggle with is, "In a world where you can be anything". Because honestly, does anyone actually have the freedom to "be anything"? It may be true of a few brave souls, who fight against the restrictions imposed upon them by society, and come through triumphantly, leading the way for the rest of us. But most of us find it very difficult to resist those restrictions, and will choose instead to settle for what is a) possible and b) achievable without making ourselves social outcasts.

What we all can do, however, is to choose to support the brave few as they walk their lonely path. Who knows, our support may make all the difference and, if we are steadfast, it may make us brave enough to follow them, to stand up and become our own true selves.

What I am clear about is, the attempt must be made. Living authentically, living up to our values, is vitally important in today's society, where all kinds of minorities are persecuted, and where the actions of powerful, corrupt leaders have a huge negative impact on our world. We must stand up for what we believe in, and take the consequences. Perhaps that is what being yourself means, after all.

Being All In

 This week's quote reads, "You cannot go half 'all-out'."

With which sentiment I would thoroughly agree. I have always tried to be a committed sort of person - if I believe in something, I believe in it with my whole heart and want to align my life with that belief. Yet of course, I have often fallen short of that ideal, as most of us do, one time or another.

I admire people who are "all in" so much - they decide to stand behind (or up for) something they care deeply about, and nothing stops them from being a rock solid witness. Such people can change the world.

One example who comes to mind is Greta Thunberg - when she began her solitary school strike for climate change outside the Swedish Parliament seven years ago, she cannot have imagined the impact her action would have on so many people. She is entirely committed to working for climate justice and has made a massive difference to attitudes and awareness of this issue throughout the world (although I am sure she would say, far from enough - she is after action, not attitudes and awareness).

Being "all in" inevitably means going out of our comfort zones, not being "half-assed" but caring deeply enough about whatever it is to make a thorough-going commitment to ACT, in whatever ways are necessary, to make the change you desire happen. It means ignoring the reactions of the people around you, and remaining steadfast.

Yet so many things seem to get in the way of whole-hearted commitment - lack of time, lack of energy, conflicting calls on both time and energy, the temptation to take the easy route and let things slide. Most of us lack Greta's single-minded burning ambition, we fall short of total commitment. 

What do you care about enough to be single-minded, whole-hearted, completely committed to make the change you desire happen?

Living Your Dream

 This week's quote reads, "Do not dream your life, live your dream."

I believe there is room for both. It is good to have hopes and dreams about a better world, a better life, for ourselves and others. But it's also important to translate those dreams and hopes into action, to put them into practice.

Life is a process of becoming, evolving - we never actually get there, wherever "there" is. There is always more to do, more to learn, more to discover, more to experience, more to get excited about. But many of us fall into the trap of thinking, "If only I could do / achieve / be X, Y or Z, then I'll be happy, then I'll be content."

I believe there is an important difference between setting your sail to the future and looking forward to getting there, and having some idea of how might that happen, and ignoring all the joys of our present lives in favour of dreams about a yet-to-be perfect life, which will never, ever materialise. Living in the future in this way is such a waste of our lives, of our emotional energy. And it doesn't make us happy. So why do we do it?

Living in the present is living your dream. Deeply experiencing all the passing instances of awe and wonder and joy (as well as grief and sadness, anger and loss) is living your dream. The Transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau, who famously went to live in the woods for a while to deeply experience life, has a lot to say about this; as he explains, "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

He also wrote, "What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us." and "You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment."

Yet he also comes down firmly on the side of "live your dream", advising us, "If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them."

So yes, dream your dreams - we all need something to work towards; but then put the foundations under them. For me, this is finding the right balance between dreaming your life and living your dream. 

The Sound of Rain

 This week's quote reads, "When you close your eyes, the rain sounds like applause."

And I really had to think about the sound of rain - it has been so long since we have had any. Which is worrying. I've just checked the weather app on my phone and there is apparently a 75% chance of rain tomorrow where I live, and I'm so glad. It's nearly the end of May, and unless we have some good solid downpours, the crops in the fields around the village are not going to grow as they should. The weather has been beautifully sunny, and I've thoroughly enjoyed feeling the sun on my skin when I've been out and about, but we urgently Need Some Rain.

According to a recent article in The Guardian, "It has been the driest start to spring in 69 years. England saw its driest March since 1961 and in April the country received just half its normal rainfall. Farmers have had to start irrigating crops earlier, and reservoir levels are either notably or exceptionally low across the north-east and north-west of England." 

The article also explained that some crops are already failing and "livestock yields could also be at risk; grazing is not yet short, but farmers point out that fields will need a decent amount of rain to get animals through the summer." The deputy President of the National Farmers Union warned, "The extreme weather patterns we have experienced over the past few years are impacting our ability to feed the nation."

The water companies seem to be sadly underprepared for this calamity and are said to be simply trying to prevent too many leaks and praying for rain.

In The Climate Book, compiled by climate change activist Greta Thunberg in 2022, hydroclimatologist Peter H. Gleick explains the central role of water in our lives. He writes, "Water connects us to everything on the planet: our food and health, the well-being of the environment around us, the production of good and services, and our sense of community. And water is central to the climate - the entire hydrologic cycle of evaporation, precipitation, run-off and all the stocks and flows of water around the world lie at the heart of our climate system." 

He suggests that we need to "re-think" our relationship with water, following a "soft path... moving away from sole reliance on hard, centralized infrastructure like dams, aqueducts and large water treatment plants to a more integrated reliance on treatment and re-use of water, better capture and use of stormwater, smaller-scale distributed water systems, and, when economically and environmentally appropriate, the desalinisation of brackish or ocean water. It also calls for us to reconsider how we use water and to maximize the benefits water provides while minimizing the amount of water and energy we use."

As individuals, we can do some things: not waste water by leaving taps running; shift from taking baths to taking showers; not using hosepipes to water the plants in our gardens (if we are lucky enough to have gardens); and change to a plant-based diet (or at least, reduce the amount of meat we eat). But it is when we join together with others that we have the power to change the climate-unfriendly systems in place around the world. As Unitarians we can become members of Unitarians for Climate Justice, and join them in climate-friendly actions. They explain, "Many of us now see the Climate Crisis as the greatest threat facing the world and its beautiful, diverse community of living beings. As Unitarians, we know the struggle for a sustainable future for life on earth cannot be separated from the struggle for global justice and our belief in the inherent equality and worth of all human beings irrespective of wealth, country, race, religion, sexuality or gender identity." (from U4CJ Facebook page)

We can also join pressure groups such as Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth, and follow their advice about how to live more sustainably.

Maybe then, rain could sound like applause...

Should We Ever Admit Defeat?

 This week's quote reads, "You are only defeated when you admit defeat."

And my first reaction was, 'Hell, yes. Fight to the bitter end.' But then I thought some more, and realised that this is only true for the things which really matter - values, the defence of loved ones, important stuff... We should never admit defeat in our striving for a better world, for everyone, not only people but all the other inhabitants of our imperilled blue-green planet. We should continue to fight for equality, for peace, for an end to poverty and hunger and pollution and war. We should never admit defeat. 

But often, we carry on fighting, carry on trying, to achieve things which don't really matter - the ideal weight, popularity, the perfect anything. Because perfection is not attainable, at least, not in this world. And we are wasting our finite resources of time and energy and motivation if we set our teeth and keep on fighting to reach these unattainable goals. And beating ourselves up in consequence, when we fail. Again.

I honestly believe that is is better to settle for "good enough" in many cases. To do our best, but then be content. Which will sometimes mean coming to terms with unwelcome truths (for example, in my case, you will never weigh the same as you did in your twenties) and instead moving the goal posts, so that you have a new and achievable aim, which can be met without killing yourself. So in this particular example, my new 'win', my new victory, is to eat healthily, do sufficient exercise to keep my body fit, and stop comparing myself with anyone else. Because my body is absolutely good enough, and deserves cosseting and caring for, rather than depriving and shaming.

It can be hard to step back from the fight, to realise that perfection is not attainable, and, most importantly, that it very often Doesn't Matter. That we would be so much happier, so much more content, if we appreciated our small victories and stopped shooting for the moon.

I'm not saying we should not aim high - of course we should. But we should not beat ourselves up if we do not attain perfection. Another example: it was the annual competition of my local writing group yesterday afternoon, and each of us read our stories aloud, which were then marked out of ten by everyone else. Then, at the end, the numbers were collated, and the three winners announced. I was a little disappointed not to be placed, but happy that the three stories I had judged "best" came first, second, and third.

On the way home, I consciously told myself that it was okay not to have won; that I had written the best story I could, I had turned up and taken part, and that was enough. I admitted defeat, let it go. And am much more content in consequence.