The Importance of Detail

 Georges Braque was a 20th century painter, who was involved in both the Fauvism and Cubism movements, and who worked closely with Pablo Picasso. Which knowledge makes this week's quote by him, "It's the detail that keeps it entertaining and lively"illuminating.

Because I guess he means (in the context of his painting) it is this brushstroke, that choice of colour which makes the difference. And I believe that this is not only true for painters; but also for writers and other creators. Whether we choose to express our creativity with paints, pencils, words, threads, clay or yarn (or any other medium), it is the details that lift our work out of the ordinary and into the realm of being "entertaining and lively."

Unfortunately, the version of Blogger on my PC is not allowing me to upload this week's photo, which is of delicate mauve and purple pansies growing out of what look like eggshells. In which it is indeed the detail that make the image.

I have always believed that poetry is "the best words in the best order", to quote Samuel Taylor Coleridge. On many occasions, my breath has been taken away by the juxtaposition of words and images in unexpected order. There is the moment of savouring, then the excitement as the meaning sinks in. I have blogged about this before, here. 

I am just home from our Unitarian General Assembly annual meetings, during which many words were spoken (including quite a lot by me, during the plenary sessions!) For me, the highlight of the week was the Anniversary Service, which had the title, Justice does not just happen: Showing up for Justice. Revs. Kate Dean and Stephanie Bisby were the service leaders, and Rev Winnie Gordon was the Anniversary Preacher, and their words went straight to the hearts of their hearers. 

Thank God for all creators, who keep our world entertaining and lively.

Love of Words

Unitarians may not be People of the Book, like the Christians, Jews and Muslims, but we are surely the People of the Word.  Our worship services, our books, our magazines, our Wayside Pulpits, are all examples of how important we, as Unitarians, find words. Words that influence us, words that inspire us, words that make us think, words that challenge us, words which paint pictures of the wonder and beauty of the world. I would guess that the most well-read issues each year of our periodical, The Inquirer, are the two ‘Faith in Words’ issues, which are compilations of original words by Unitarians all over the country.

Unitarian minister Stephen Lingwood wrote, in his anthology, The Unitarian Life: Voices from the Past and Present, that, “We can pay attention to a cloud of witnesses from many different countries around the world and many different times in history. We can delve deep into the traditions of our spiritual ancestors and listen to their voices. In doing so, we can create a ‘living scripture’: a loose, dynamic collection of texts which brings together essential insights from the past and present of our movement.”

This lovely quotation shows that we are not limited to readings from a particular sacred text – we are free to create our own “living scripture” of readings that speak to our condition and that of our hearers. And so we do – many of the readings and prayers in our worship services have been written by Unitarians, past and present. Unitarian worship leaders are also free to choose any words they believe will have spiritual significance for us, which relate to the theme of the service.

And often, these words are poems. Someone once defined poetry as “the best words in the best order” and I have to agree. Poetry seems to be able to reach parts of people’s hearts and souls in a very special way, which prose does not generally share. The poems of John O’Donohue, William Stafford, Mary Oliver, Denise Levertov and others are frequently used in Unitarian worship services, as are the poems of more classical poets – Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Blake and so on. We are not limited to poems originally written in English either – thanks to the skills of contemporary translators. We find both wisdom and spiritual nourishment in the words of Kahlil Gibran, author of The Prophet, in those of the Sufi poets Hafiz and Rumi, in the poetry of the Bohemian-Austrian poet, Rainer Maria Rilke and in the words of Rabindranath Tagore, the "Bard of Bengal", who died 80 years ago this week.

Whichever flavour of spiritual poetry you enjoy, there is little doubt in my mind that reading these poets (and others) can nourish our souls. To quote Unitarian minister, Cliff Reed, let us "give thanks for all the honest, healing wordsmiths of the world."

Choosing Your Words Carefully

This week's quotation, by Julius Stinde, wins my personal prize of the month for an unusual simile. "A good deed is like lavender, which, as you know, smells lifelong."

I understand what he means, but such an odd way of putting it. My mind tried to find a connection between good deeds and lavender, and went on strike. Maybe it's just me...

But it made me think about my own writing. Regular readers will know that in my down time, I write novels. My first, One Foot in Front of the Other,  is going to be published on 1st October, which is very exciting! And I'm currently working on the first volume of a fantasy, set in a fictional world where magic and religion intertwine in what I hope is an interesting way. My son is my first reader, and when he sends each chapter back to me, it is full of insightful comments, which have helped enormously.

Most useful of all have been the comments "I don't understand..." or "Why?" Because that shows me that I haven't explained what is happening well enough, or not set up a situation properly. So I go back to the manuscript and revise it gratefully.

Words have power. They can paint a picture in a reader's or listener's mind, influence them for good or ill, even rush off and change their lives. So it is vital that we who make our livings through words are careful about what we write, what we share. And I don't mean only authors of fiction, I also mean journalists, non-fiction writers, storytellers, teachers, lecturers, even ministers. We need to always bear in mind the influence that our words might have on the reader or listener.

This is also true in conversation, for everyone. And doubly true when posting on social media. The saying I learned in the playground, "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words can never hurt me" is the most inaccurate maxim I have ever heard. Bones mend, bruises heal, but harsh words, teasing words, belittling words, words filled with hate, can leave scars that never heal. They have a real and very evil power. Even when the person saying them thinks they are doing it in jest.

Another saying from my childhood, often quoted by my mother, was, "If you can't think of anything nice to say, don't say anything." I've often seen a quote about right speech, "If you propose to speak, always ask yourself, is it true, is it necessary, is it kind?" attributed to the Buddha, so I googled it just now, and found a fascinating article on a blog called Fake Buddha Quotes. The author gave a genuine quote, translated from the Vaca Sutta, written in Pali, by Thanissaro Bhikkhu, which is even better, if not as snappy, as the fake quote:

"Monks, a statement endowed with five factors is well-spoken, not ill-spoken. It is blameless and unfaulted by knowledgeable people. Which five?

• It is spoken at the right time. 
• It is spoken in truth. 
• It is spoken affectionately. 
• It is spoken beneficially. 
• It is spoken with a mind of goodwill."

Such words are a power for good.

The Taste of Words

When I was a student, I had a poster on the wall of my room, which showed a bookworm, eating its way through a pile of books, with the quotation by Francis Bacon: "Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested."


 

image: fromsmilerwithlove.com



 

I have always loved that quotation, because it describes so exactly what I do. When I have a new book to read, particularly if it is the latest instalment in a series, I devour it, avid to discover what happens. I sit and read and read and read, and don't stop until I've finished. Then I go back for a more leisurely second reading, savouring the words, rolling them round in the mouth of my mind, and enjoying them more deeply. I know some people who never read a book twice, and I simply cannot understand this. For me, the best books are to be read and enjoyed, over and over, until they become a part of me, "chewed and digested". They are food for thought, and some are food for my soul.

I have only recently noticed that I often think about reading in terms of taste - I will read some words and think that they are delicious. And all the words I used about reading in the previous paragraph are taste-related. Which is odd, since reading is done with the eyes, not the tongue or the teeth. Perhaps it is the internalising process that I go through when I find a book that I love - it becomes a part of me, and that is a fully sensory process, involving sight and taste and even smell (the smell of a new book is one of my favourite smells!) so that the book becomes part of my heart and mind forever.

Food for thought, and food for the soul, that is the taste of words. And I count myself blessed, that reading and books are such a huge and important part of my life.


Drunk on words

"I find it very easy to get drunk on words", to quote Lord Peter Wimsey, Dorothy L. Sayers' detective hero. So one of my favourite Facebook pages is The Liberal Lectionary, a Canadian page maintained by Rev. Stefan Jonasson, a Unitarian Universalist minister and historian, which posts "words of inspiration for common worship and personal devotion from the liberal religious traditions." Very often, the words he posts will resonate with me strongly, perhaps even giving me an idea for a blogpost or a service. Here is one he posted last week:



The Liberal Lectionary's logo

"We have all known persons to whom the rich intimacies of nature come best through the sense of smell. They love intensely the various enticing odors of the country. The woods after a rain; the newly cut hay; the freshly ploughed field; the aromatic tides from sweet-fern; the perfume of wayside flowers; the faint sniff... of burning leaves; the whiff from salt marshes; the deliciously indescribable fragrance from apples in a room; all these experiences and many more, beget a rare delight. To these olfactory devotees nature is a glorified, universal, broadcasting station from which is sent forth, wave after wave, yes, volley after volley, of delicious odors, perfumes and aromas." — Frank Wright Pratt (born October 23, 1866)



For me, this was a quotation to roll around my mouth, savouring and tasting it. (maybe I'm a taste person, rather than a smell person!). But I find well-crafted quotations and poetry - particularly poetry - so deeply satisfying, it is almost beyond describing.

I have blogged before about the power of words. And I still stand by what I wrote then: "Words have so much power, especially in conjunction with the human voice. They can be used to encourage, sustain, energise and uplift; or they can be used to arouse hatred, bitterness, despair and all other kinds of bad feelings. ...  With one word of praise or blame, one human being can build another one up, or fling him or her into the pit of despair. The human memory has an uncanny knack of remembering words spoken in anger or despite, which can cause people with fragile self-esteem (that is to say, all of us, deep down) to think badly of themselves; whereas words of praise may be shrugged off. ... Words have so much power. We all have the responsibility to use them wisely and well."

The Power of Poetry

Somebody once defined poetry as "the best words in the best order" and I have to agree. I have just been introduced to the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke (specifically his Book of Hours: Love Poems to God in a lovely translation by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy) and have been blown away by them.

Rainer Maria Rilke



So many beautiful images, which really speak to my condition. Reading slowly through the book this morning was a huge pleasure, and I feel spiritually nourished. Let me share just one of his poems:

"I live my life in widening circles

that reach out across the world.

I may not complete this last one

but I give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.

I've been circling for thousands of years

and I still don't know: am I a falcon,

a storm, or a great song?"

Most of the poems are quite short, but are deceptively deep, conjuring up some beautiful images of the relationship between God and humankind. The only other poet who has had this effect on me is Hafiz, the great 14th century Sufi master, whose poetry is likewise intimate and challenging at one and the same time. And I am filled with gratitude for this gift.

Dear God,
Thank you for giving us the power to create,
and to share with each other,
words which delight and inspire.

And thank you for poets,
whose words can ravish our hearts and minds,
shaking up our images of the world,
so that they fall in a new and different pattern,
enriching our lives.
Amen

Penny Plain or Tuppence Coloured?

Do you like your religion penny plain or tuppence coloured? In Christian terms, I would guess that if you are Protestant, the answer is likely to be the former, if Catholic, the latter. This difference was brought home to me yesterday evening, when we went to a light-show at Amiens Cathedral, which ingeniously projected colour onto the very elaborate facade, to make it look as though it was painted.

Oh. My. It was breathtaking, incredible, awe-inspiring. As my husband commented, just imagine being a mediaeval person arriving here on a pilgrimage to see John the Baptist's head (which rather grisly relic is kept in the Cathedral) or on your way to St. Iago de Compostela. Imagine the awe and reverence this building would inspire. Then, walking into that lofty vaulted space and participating in the high mystery of the mass, with its chanting and incense and bells. It must have been a mind-blowing experience.

And I was not unaffected. I can recall feeling similarly blown away the first time I saw a video of the Hindu festival of Diwali - it was all so bright, so rich, so vivid, and yes, so awe-inspiring.

And yet, so very unlike the usual monochrome, non-ritualistic Unitarian, words-based hymn-sandwich type service, where the closest we get to ritual is the lighting of the chalice at the beginning of the service, and maybe a few candles of joy and concern.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating loads of symbolism and ritual in the average Unitarian service, far from it. We come from a very different religious tradition, where it is considered to be important that the congregation is intellectually engaged with the service. And that is good. But as I have said in another blogpost, there is nothing wrong with engaging the heart and the senses too; perhaps a little more light and colour and ritual on occasion would not do us any harm.

There was an interesting coda to all this. Today we visited Laon Cathedral, which inside is much more austere and much less highly decorated - there was less gold statuary around the place, and the nave soars upwards towards the beautiful vaulting, and forwards to the magnificent rose window in the east end. The effect was light and airy; and I felt so much more at ease. Although I can be thrilled and awe-inspired by light and drama, too much fills me with unease. The light and austere interior of Laon Cathedral was much more to my spiritual taste than the decorated glory of Amiens.

Time passes; listen: time passes

I have just been to the Unitarian General Assembly Annual Meetings, which this year were at Swansea University. The warmth of the welcome from the Welsh Unitarians will remain with me for a long time. And the setting was lovely - all we had to do to get to the beach was walk out of the front gate and cross the footbridge, which for someone who lives in rural Northamptonshire, just about as far away from the coast as you can get in England, was a delightful novelty.

One morning, I went for a run along the Prom Walk, which stretches for miles along Swansea's seafront. I was just about to turn back when I saw a sign for "Mumbles" and knew that I was in Dylan Thomas country. My parents had the original Argo recording of Under Milk Wood, starring Richard Burton and a very distinguished all-Welsh cast, and I have recently managed to get a copy of it on CD. Thomas was one of the people long years ago who taught me to love words, and to marvel at their ability to move human minds and hearts. I used to have the opening speech of the First Voice by heart - it is mesmerising in its hypnotic beauty and vividness, brought to life by Richard Burton's wonderful frayed-velvet voice.

Words have so much power, especially in conjunction with the human voice. They can be used to encourage, sustain, energise and uplift; or they can be used to arouse hatred, bitterness, despair and all other kinds of bad feelings. On the one side, look at someone like Martin Luther King and his "I have a dream" speech. On the other, turn on any documentary about World War II, and listen to Hitler mesmerising his German subjects into going along with policies of vengeful genocide.

Words have so much power. With one word of praise or blame, one human being can build another one up, or fling him or her into the pit of despair. The human memory has an uncanny knack of remembering words spoken in anger or despite, which can cause people with fragile self-esteem (that is to say, all of us, deep down) to think badly of themselves; whereas words of praise may be shrugged off. How many times have you heard an actor or singer say that they only remember what is said in the bad reviews, even if those are out-numbered ten times by positive ones?

Words have so much power. We all have the responsibility to use them wisely and well.