Appreciating the Silver Lining

"Many people miss the silver lining, because they are expecting gold." This week's quote is by Maurice Setter. Whom I was not able to find out anything about, because of the similarity of his name to Maurice Setters, a footballer. *sigh* Dear old Google!

Which, it occurred to me, is a good example of missing the silver lining because I was expecting gold. So I dutifully clicked on the Maurice Setter*s* Wikipedia entry, and discovered that he played for Exeter City, West Bromwich Albion, Manchester United, Stoke City, Coventry City and Charlton Athletic.

Moving swiftly on...

At this stage in the corona virus lockdown, I am sure that the "gold" we are all hoping for and expecting is that the death rate from this awful virus will decrease, that an effective vaccine will be found, that the pressure on the dedicated staff of the NHS will ease, and that the lockdown will be lifted.

So it was hard to watch the evening news last night, and to see that the daily death rate had gone back up, and that the lockdown is to be extended for another three weeks. My heart goes out to all the people whose loved ones have died during this time. Knowing that they will have died alone, with no friends or family close to them. And, that deprivation will stay with the survivors for a very long time, even though it was not their fault, and they could not have done anything more than they had already done.

How to even look for a silver lining in the face of such grief? To say, "it could have been worse" could (quite rightly) be taken as crass insensitivity by those who are grieving.

But I have tried very hard to find the silver lining of being in lockdown. I am fortunate in being a natural introvert, so being at home, with just my husband, son and cat for company, has not been too much of a hardship. I think I would have found it harder to deal with if I had been living alone. As it is, I have had much more time to follow my hobbies: cross-stitch, crochet, writing and reading. My weekly piano lesson has been delivered via Face Time, and it has worked very satisfactorily.

Although I am still working, I am not travelling to do so, and that has opened up many free hours.

And the weather has been glorious. Again, I count myself so very fortunate to live in the countryside, able to walk around the fields, or up into the forest. And to watch Spring unfold before my wondering eyes. An annual miracle, which this year I have had the time to observe more closely. Another silver lining - I would not have taken so many walks, in the ordinary course of things.

I have noticed a change in the people we have met (at the safe 2 meter distance) on these walks. Everyone has greeted us, and people we know have stopped to chat. The amount of benevolent interest by neighbours seems to have gone through the roof. I have read many examples of this on Facebook, and our next door neighbour, who is a postman, and hence out every day, has offered to get us anything we need in between our own shopping expeditions. So kind.

I think the main silver lining for me has been that this has happened *now*, when there are so many different ways of keeping in touch - not only by phone or letter, but also by e-mail, Facebook, Face Time, Skype and Zoom.  I had never even heard of Zoom before the corona virus, but have now taken part in several Zoom meetings. And my colleagues and I have managed to keep in touch with our congregations / Districts by sharing online services in various formats and sending round news e-mails in between, and doing pastoral "visits" by phone. Of course it's not the same, could never be the same, as face-to-face, hug-to-hug, direct interaction with our loved ones and our beloved communities. But it has been something.

I am afraid that the long-term fall-out from the corona virus will be both difficult and complex to deal with. Not only the effect on people who have lost loved ones, although that of course is the worst, but also the number of jobs lost, companies closing down, will lead to great changes in our economy. Not to mention the emotional and psychological effects that being in lockdown, being isolated, has had on too many people.

And we will need all the kindness, all the compassion, that we have shown to each other during this time, to work together towards a better, more compassionate society. Rather than reverting to our old ways. Because the shocking truth is, that although humankind has suffered greatly during these weeks and months, the rest of creation has thriven. Seas and rivers are less polluted, the air is cleaner, and the knock-on effects of those benefits on the natural world has been widespread. We will need to build on this silver lining, "when it is all over", rather than going back to our old, polluting ways.

If you have found a silver lining in these weeks, please share them...

Learning vs Experience

"If you want to know something, ask an experienced person, not a scholar." This nugget of Chinese wisdom is something I have learned down the years.

In the first half of my life, I was a great believer in learning from books. And it served me well, for quite a long time. I finished school, got my degree in Librarianship, got married and settled down to live the rest of my life.

As time passed, I began to realise that there are so many things that you simply cannot learn from books, from staying in your head. So many things that can only be learned, or dealt with, overcome,  by hard-won experience, by living from a place of love and risk. Love. Vulnerability. Death. Generosity. None of these can be taught. They have to be experienced.

Book-learning is good, in that it gives you a theoretical grounding in whatever it is you are trying to learn, but it is not until you try to put that theory into practice that the learning "goes in". It is no accident that William Blake put Innocence and Experience at opposite poles. Until we have experienced something, all the book learning in the world will not help us. We will remain in a state of innocence (by which I mean unknowing) until our self-confident edges have been knocked off by some life experience.

Take counselling as an example. As part of my ministerial studies, I did a certificate in counselling skills. I read the recommended texts and thought I knew how to do it. But it was not until I and my fellow students started practising on each other, working in triads (one "counsellor", one "client", one observer) that I began to understand how the theory I had read about really worked. And the same thing happened in the three years of my spiritual direction training. The wise tutors at the London Centre for Spiritual Direction had it spot on - we spent the first half of each session on the topic of the week, and the second half on putting what we had learned into practice by "doing" spiritual direction on each other. Without all the practice I had undergone, I would not have had the confidence to hang out my spiritual director shingle.

And sometimes, I have read a book about a particular spiritual topic (Richard Rohr's Falling Upward comes to mind) and could not understand it at all, until I underwent life experiences which helped the meaning of the words fall into place in my heart.

Where the book learning can help, I think, is that the wisdom shared in books can support us through whatever experience we are having, so that we come out the other end wiser and stronger, kinder and more compassionate than we were before.

Dreams and Reality

This week's quotation comes from the author of The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint Eupery. "My dreams are more real than the moon, than the dunes, than everything around me."

It may be tempting, at the moment, to retreat to the world of dreams. Because in our dreams, the world is a happier place, with everyone living together in peace and amity. There is no illness, no poverty, no disease, no injustice. Which is why the lyric's of John Lennon's wonderful song, Imagine, still have so much power, all these years later.

Imagine...

But I believe that although it important to have dreams, to work towards such a world, it is more important to live in this one, and to accept the realities that we have been given.

A few months ago, a friend asked me this question: "What makes you come alive?" and I have been thinking about the answers ever since. For many of us, interaction with the natural world - walking by the sea, making a garden, walking a regular route and notice the day-to-day changes in the nature around us, being awed by natural beauty - play an important part in re-connecting us with the spiritual; with making us come alive. And so it is with me. To which I would also add, interacting with family, friends and fellow Unitarians - even if we can only do this virtually at present.

I am blessed that I live in a village surrounded by open countryside. When I go for a walk, it is wonderful to be out in the changing seasons - to see and savour and appreciate the blossom in spring (which is coming out all over at the moment), the mass of wildflowers in the summer, the first conkers in autumn and the elegant spareness of the trees in winter. This connectedness of the natural world is something that very often gets lost in Western society. We are so busy doing the job in hand, rushing to the next appointment, that we don't take enough time out to appreciate the world around us.

Maybe this time of enforced staying at home could be doing us a favour - forcing us to slow down, open our eyes, and appreciate the beautiful reality with which we are surrounded. Even if we live in a city, there is still the sky above us, and trees along our streets.

So yes, dreams are important, but give me reality any day!

Flowers are Nature's Laughter

Such a gorgeous quotation this week, by the poet James Henry Leigh Hunt: "Colours are the smiles of Nature, and flowers are her laughter." It was illustrated by a gorgeous photo of (I think) apple blossom...

In this time of fear and physical isolation, it has been lovely to go out for my daily allowed walk, and to see the beauties of Nature unfolding in front of my eyes. Just before we were confined to the village, my husband and I went for a walk at Castle Ashby and saw these two beautiful magnolias, which will now be blossoming unseen by any except the gardeners...

And just around our village, there are beautiful flowers blooming in the Spring sunshine, whether in the hedgerows...

or in neighbours' gardens, which have lifted my heart so much...

It seems as though Nature is putting on a show to keep us cheerful, and to help us to stick to the rules and stay at home and stay safe.

Flowers are Nature's laughter. Even reading that made me smile. Every time I see a flower blooming I will smile right back at it. I've noticed a new influx of nature photos on Facebook - it seems that other people have had the same idea. And some people have commented that my photos have cheered them up too.

This current situation is deeply scary. And it's okay to admit that we are scared. Nothing like this has happened on this scale for very many years. It helps me, when I remind myself how much worse it would be, if we didn't have so many other ways of communicating - by phone, by e-mail and through social media. Not to mention conference call virtual meetings, which many Unitarian churches and chapels are experimenting with. I am grateful for all the ingenious ways people are coming up with at keeping in touch with each other, and for the IT facilities which enable them.

I had some fun yesterday... I had my first Face Time piano lesson. My piano teacher and I each sat at our pianos, linked by our iPads, and it worked really well. She could see my fingers as I played, and hear what was happening. And I could see and hear her demonstrating how it *should* be done :)

And the idea of clapping the NHS was a fabulous one! I'll finish with a prayer, which I'm using in weekly online services for my District:

Spirit of Life and Love,
Be with us as we gather for worship,
each in their own place.
Help us to feel a sense of community,
even though we are physically apart.
Help us to care for each other,
in this difficult time,
keeping in touch however we can,
and helping each other,
however we may.
We hold in our hearts all those
whose lives have been touched,
in whatever way,
by the coronavirus and the fall-out from it.
Amen

Love Opens Doors

Rabindranath Tagore, the Bengali poet and short-story writer (among other talents) wrote, "Whoever does good, knocks on the door; whoever loves, finds it open."

As we all hunker down to live our new lives under COVID-19, I have been encouraged and uplifted by the amount of good deeds and loving that is going on in the world, in my neighbourhood and in my country.

To be sure, there are still some selfish people, who are operating from places of scarcity and fear, who are hoarding toilet rolls and pasta, in deep fear of an almost entirely fictitious Armageddon. But most of the people I know, both online and in person, are taking a far more pragmatic, and un-selfish approach to life. Unitarian ministers and lay worship leaders / congregation leaders are producing online resources to share with their congregations, coming up with ingenious ways to keep in touch with them while the physical distancing rules are in force, and generally trying to do their best in very difficult circumstances.  I have found the willingness, even eagerness, of the fit and healthy, to care for the less fortunate among us, very heartening.

This virus is undoubtedly the most life-changing thing most of us have come across, in our whole lives. I believe that how we respond to it, both individually, and as a society, will have a great effect on how well we come through it. If we do the best that we can to look after ourselves, support others, or receive support graciously and with gratitude, we will come out of this better and stronger than before. But if we allow fear to overcome common sense, it will be a very long few weeks or months.

Yes, there are things we cannot control - how long this will last, its effects on the economy, and on our individual lives. Yes, we are afraid for the well-being of our loved ones. But there are also things we can control - mainly our own attitudes, our willingness to take each day as it comes, sensible adherence to the physical distancing regulations (because this is not about "social" distancing at all - there are many other ways to keep in touch) and to do our best to remain as positive as we can, and get through this somehow.

Bright blessings to all my readers - may you be well, may you be happy, may you be free from harm, may you find peace. Amen

Nature goes Deep

The French artist and Post-Impressionist painter, Paul Cézanne, wrote, "Nature does not exist on the surface, it goes deep."

I had to think about this one... If he had written, "not *only*" on the surface, I would have been with him completely. But to say that "nature does not exist on the surface" is puzzling. Because for me, it permeates the whole of creation. The only places where nature does not exist is in completely sterile human-made environments, and even then, given half a chance, it will make its way in.

But yes, oh yes, it goes deep. A deep reverence for Nature is an important part of my faith. Growing out of the fairy tales and legends of my youth, Elsie Proctor's wonder-full book Looking at Nature, and J.R.R. Tolkien's powerful evocations of Middle Earth, I have always found it easiest to sense the presence of God / the Spirit in the natural world. Yet it was not until fairly recently that this reverence for natural beauty became integrated into the rest of my spiritual life.

This started in early 2009, when I did a module on my second Open University course, called Belief Beyond Boundaries: Wicca, Celtic Spirituality and the New Age. I was particularly fascinated by contemporary Celtic spirituality, and have gone on to learn much more about it. I was introduced to the concept of the Wheel of the Year, and to the notion that we (and all living things) move through life in a cyclical rather than a linear manner, in which the dark side is to be welcomed as an important part of the process.

At around the same time, I also came across A Guide to the Sacraments by Christian theologian, John Macquarrie, which reinforced my belief that the whole of the universe could be sacramental. He explained that rather than God's presence being limited to either two or seven sacraments, God has so arranged matters that the material world can "become a door or channel of communication through which he comes to us and we may go to him." For this reason, "man's spiritual wellbeing demands that he should recognise and cherish the visible things of the world as things that are made by God and that provide access to God."

This way of perceiving the world demands that we believe that God is not only transcendent, the one-time creator of the universe, but also immanent - being in the world and acting through it. In other words, we are always in the presence of the Divine, in whom we live and move and have our being. Macquarrie also writes about material things such as stars, mountains and even cities, as "doors to the sacred."

Then I discovered the Celtic mystic, poet and theologian John O'Donohue, whose love for the Irish landscape of his birth flows richly through all his writings. One of his books in particular, Divine Beauty: the Invisible Embrace, helped me to appreciate with my heart, not just my head, how deeply God is present in the earth, in the sky, in the landscape.

Nature does indeed go deep.

Calm, Never Restless or Impatient

This week's quotation is by Henry David Thoreau, friend of Emerson, and Transcendentalist writer. "The wise man is calm, never restless or impatient. He is completely present to every moment."

I wonder whether he was being aspirational, when he wrote this. Because the Thoreau I have read about believed in throwing himself in to life, in experiencing it deeply. Here is a famous quotation from Walden:

"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. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion."

The words "calm, never restless or impatient" remind me more of the Buddha, when he had achieved Enlightenment. Free from desires and suffering, he had discovered true calm.

It is a rare gift, this quality of calm. Brené Brown calls it a "super-power". She defines it as "creating perspective and mindfulness while managing emotional reactivity." Because remaining calm in an anxious situation can help to defuse the anxiety, whereas a panicked response will escalate it. It's about counting to ten before responding. It's about not believing every Facebook meme you see and instantly reacting to it, but rather going to the source and discovering the true story.

My favourite advice of hers about calm is the two questions she has learned to ask herself before responding to any situation:

1 "Do I have enough information to freak out?"
2 Even if the answer to question 1 is "yes", "Will freaking out help?"

The answer is always, always "no".

Being "calm, never restless or impatient" is wise advice, something we should all aspire to. If I am getting wound up about something, it helps if I breathe, slowly and quietly. And run through the words of the beautiful Celtic prayer:

Deep Peace of the running waves to you.

Deep Peace of the flowing air to you.

Deep Peace of the quiet earth to you.

Deep peace of the shining stars to you.

Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.