The Art of Giving Presents

This week's quotation is by A.A. Milne, author of the Winnie the Pooh books. It reads, "The art of giving presents is to give someone something that they cannot buy." Which reminds me of the episode In which Eeyore has a Birthday and gets Two Presents. Which turn out to be an empty honey jar (Pooh got hungry on the way) and a burst balloon (Piglet tripped up).

Here is the gorgeous E.H. Shepard illustration, which proves A.A. Milne's point beautifully... taken from my own copy of The World of Pooh. Eeyore could have bought some honey, he could have bought a balloon, but he had much more fun playing with the unintended results of his friends' accidents.

The art of giving presents is to give someone something that they cannot buy. Like a hug, or a smile, or the gift of real presence. Or your time... spent doing an errand for someone, or looking after a child to give them a break. Or a coffee to cheer someone up. Presence is far more important than presents.

I've had a gorgeous Christmas and have had some wonderful presents.... but the best thing of all has been spending time with my husband, my son, my daughter and her fiancé. Plus Boxing Day with the extended family.

photo by Henry Richards

And the gift from myself - a week off work, so that I have had time to enjoy the presents I have received. I've spent a considerable amount of time reading, and producing a detailed map of my imaginary world, Veylindre. And watching Christmas programmes and well-loved films with Maz and David. And finishing my latest shawl...

This has been a useful reminder, that there are so many things that money cannot buy, which are more precious than all the roc's eggs in the world.

I wish all my friends and family a very Happy and Blessed 2020, with all the time you need to spend with those you love.

Season of Rest

I will be leading worship this coming Sunday, on the Winter Solstice. I like the modern Pagan interpretation of Winter as a time of stillness, darkness, dormancy, rest. So this week's quotation, by Karl Tucholsky, struck a chord with me: "There are many different noises. There is only one silence."

In the lead up to the Christmas season (and, by the way, how did two. or even twelve, days turn into a "season"?) many of us will be feeling not quiet and peaceful, but frazzled and exhausted. Human beings are not supposed to operate at peak capacity 365 days a year. It isn't natural, and it sure is wearing. We all need some "down time" to rest, nourish ourselves and prepare for the year ahead.

One of the readings in my service, by Stephanie Noble, reminds us "Dark is the rich, fertile earth that cradles the seed, nourishing growth. Dark is the soft night that cradles us to rest.... Dark is the gestation of our deep and knowing self. Dark is the cave where we rest and renew the soul."

Yet how many of us, in the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season, have time to rest, and nourish ourselves? Only too often, I am afraid, we end up feeling shattered, rather than rested, as we try to meet all the demands of this season of conspicuous consumption. How often do we give ourselves the chance to stop, to rest, to replenish our souls?

It is only too easy to rush from task to task, ticking off items on the to-do list, and then straight on to the next one. Yet there are times when being busy, busy, busy just gets too much. The thought crosses our minds: "Stop the world! I want to get off!" But it won't stop, so we have to consciously make the effort to schedule some time to step off that treadmill.

So if we can, perhaps we might all consider committing to spending the next few days in Sabbath rest, the deep breath before the plunge into Christmas proper. And perhaps even resolving to carve out a regular rest day each week in 2020.

What you choose to do with your time of rest and silence will be up to you. Each person has different ways of relaxing. I love reading, and stitching, but the ideal for me is to follow the Quaker advice, and "find a way into the silence which allows us to deepen our awareness of the divine and to find the inward source of our strength."

May your Christmas be peaceful and restful, and blessed with light and friendship.

Following the Beam of Light

This week's quotation is by Ralph Waldo Emerson: "One has to learn to catch and follow the beam of light that flashes inside him" [her/them].

I have long believed that there is a divine spark within each of us, which the Quakers call "that of God in everyone".  It is interesting that the phrase "divine spark" also refers to light...

This end of the week has been a dark time for many of us, as the government not of our choosing has been returned to power. I have seen many sad, angry posts on Facebook, and a whole heap of despair and fear, for our society, for the NHS, for those worse off than we are, and also for ourselves, which is legitimate, after all.

How can we move on? How can we get past this and find the mojo to continue to work for the good of society, to stand on the side of love, to carry on supporting good causes?

I think that the only reliable way of doing this is to connect with this "beam of light that flashes inside us". For me, and I would guess, for many, the simplest way to make this connection is in the silence of meditation or contemplative prayer. Or by sharing silence in a community that cares.

It is only when we re-connect with the light which is our divine centre, that we can respond faithfully and constructively to the sh*t that happens in our lives. Otherwise, we often end up throwing a quick solution at a problem, which is like applying sticking plaster to a serious wound, and hoping it will heal.

A. Powell Davies wrote a beautiful prayer, which is speaking to me right now:

O God who hast given us the vision of a world made beautiful and good,
be with us as we seek once more that faith
that makes our dreams come true.
When it seems to us that all before is dark,
give us to remember that so it seemed
to many who went before us.
When mistrust and doubt are upon us
and we are battling bleakly with despair,
let us know that the great and good of every time
have had to find their way, as we must,
by their courage and in confidence and trust.
Help us, O God, to keep close company with their spirits.
Amen

The Doors of Perception

Such a poetic quotation this week, from William Blake, "If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is: infinite."

When I googled it to get the exact quote, I found that The Doors of Perception is also a book by Aldous Huxley, published in 1954, which explains his psychedelic experiences under the influence of mescaline in May 1953. According to Wikipedia, "Huxley recalls the insights he experienced, ranging from the 'purely aesthetic' to 'sacramental vision'."

But I do not believe that you need to be under the influence of dangerous drugs to experience the possibility of infinity in the everyday world. The "doors of perception" - our senses - may be cleansed through spiritual awareness and through moments of grace.  At such times, you may experience the ordinary world, everyday events, with a heightened awareness and infinite gratitude.

Such an experience might occur when you are out in that natural world, and are brought up standing by the singular beauty of a sunrise, or a waterfall, or a single flower in all its wondrous complexity, or a mountain. Or the sight of a star bearing bright witness in the darkening sky.

Or the sound of a beautiful song or piece of music. Pilgrim by Enya has been doing this to me, the past few days.

Or bending over your sleeping child and being filled with so much love, that you feel your heart might burst.

Gratitude and an awareness of grace can transform our world, if we let it. We just have to be awake to the possibilities and aware when the moments come. Because come they will. And they are a blessing. Sacramental vision is available to all of us.

Small Excitements

This week's quotation, by Friedrich Hölderlin, reads, "There is nothing so little or small, that you cannot get excited about it."

And I absolutely believe that. Small children know the secret, because they have not got the experience of life to be blasé or cynical about the world. The way that the frost turns the leaves all sparkly, the sound of a loved one's footsteps coming up the path, a visit to somewhere new... all these are sources of excitement for them. Everything, no matter how "little or small" has the potential to be greeted with cries and wriggles of excitement.

As we get older, we seem to become more world-weary. We've seen it all before... meh, whatever. And I think that is so sad. So I try to put myself into a small child's mindset, when something new happens, and appreciate it with all of me.

Yesterday was a good example. I started a new cross-stitch project. There are few things in life which give me so much quiet pleasure as unpacking a new kit - examining the glowing colours of the silks, having a good look at the chart, and being thrilled by the notion that over the next few weeks or months, these disparate elements - silks, material and needle, will be coming together to create something new and beautiful.

And then giving it away to the person I've stitched it for. Most of my stitching these days is for other people, in the shape of wedding and anniversary and birth samplers. It gives me great joy to create something original for the people I love.

Reading can be another source of small excitements. I've recently discovered The Expanse series by James S.A. Corey, and the books (eight of them) are beautifully written. Every few pages, I will come across a sentence, or a passage, which is so perfect, I want to share it with someone. The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever by Stephen Donaldson have the same effect, as does J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. The magic of well-written words, to transport the reader to a new world - this is a small excitement which will never pall.

What little thing makes you excited? Look around your life and see...

Only One Step

When I first read this week's quotation, from Seneca, I was discouraged. It reads: "What you take for the summit is only one step."

I thought, "Bother (or a less printable equivalent) - my work is never done. Why even try?"

But then I thought again, and saw it in a different way - that our journey through life is made up of only one step, followed by another and another... and then, somehow, we get to where we're going.

And then rest, re-evaluate and start the whole process over again! So the message I'd like to take from Seneca is that although we can only take one step at a time, each one is important, and each one moves us on in our lives. Sometimes, we may feel that it is "two steps forward, one step back", but hey! That is still progress.

And if we feel we have hit rock bottom, as happens to everyone at some point (for me it was the Summer of 2013, when I had my first and only alcoholic blackout and realised that if I didn't quit, the only way onward was down), then we can choose a different direction, and start to move on again.

For me, the "one step" was quitting drinking for good on 2nd September 2013.  I have not had an alcoholic drink since. Alcoholics Anonymous and other Twelve Step programmes  also recognise the importance of the "one step at a time" way of living. The important thing is being brave enough to make that one step, over and over again.

Each of us has an opportunity every day to make another step in the direction we're going. And can choose to make it - or not. But when we choose Life, the onward steps will always be for good.

Being True to Yourself

This week's quotation is by Bettina von Armin: "Find yourself, be true to yourself, learn to understand yourself, follow your voice, only then can you reach the highest."

One of the most useful tools for achieving this goal is the Enneagram. Or at least, that is what I believe. I and the other ministry students at Harris Manchester College Oxford were given a half-day workshop on the Enneagram during our training, and it changed my life.

I have blogged about this before,  and also here. But it is as true then, as it was when I wrote those posts, in 2011 and 2013.

I believe that it is only when we truly know ourselves and learn to love ourselves, flaws, warts and all, that we can be our best selves, and "reach the highest". And it is only when we are true to ourselves and are at peace with who we are, that we can reach out to others, knowing that they too are "unique, precious, children of God" (as the Quakers say).

Because every single person ever born has "that of God" in them, and is worthy of love and respect. So easy to write or say, so damned hard to do.

But at least it can be a gold standard, to which we can aspire. So that every time we meet a new person, we do not judge them by what we see on the surface, but take the trouble to get to know them properly. So that the divine spark in us can reach out to the divine spark in them. We are all human and imperfect, and all need the love and support of others to make our way in the world.

I love the words of Sunshine Jeremiah Wolfe, which I used in a service recently: "We gather in faith in ourselves and those around us. Not a faith that requires perfection or rightness in one another. Rather a faith that in our shared imperfection we may learn to stumble and fall together. Faith that we will help one another to rise and to try again and again."

The Hero[ine]'s Journey

Some of you will know that I love to write. I've had three non-fiction books published, and my first novel has been accepted for publication.  I spend a lot of my spare time either writing, or reading and learning about how other people write.

My son is also a writer and we have a shared interest in fantasy as a genre. I adore reading fantasy, and would love to try my hand at writing one, one day. My son has recently introduced me to a series of lectures on You Tube by fantasy writer, Brandon Sanderson, and I'm finding them fascinating.

He has an entertaining lecture style and I've learned heaps from him, about worldbuilding and how to create a convincing magical system. Yesterday evening, I was watching his podcast about characterisation, and one of the things that came up was the hero's journey. This is a trope made famous by Joseph Campbell, and is a plot outline much loved by fantasy writers: Ordinary person is taken from his ordinary life by a wise mentor, goes on a great quest with some companions to achieve / find something, undergoing various ordeals and tests on the way, then comes back home, somewhat changed.

This week's quotation, by George Moore, really reminded me of this: "Man travels the world in search of what he lacks. And he returns home, to find it."

I believe that we don't actually need to undertake a physical journey, to be changed in this way. I think that the spiritual journey has much in common with this hero's journey. A person is dissatisfied with their everyday life, realising that something is lacking, and starts to explore new ways of being in the world. They meet a wise mentor (in my case, the Unitarian minister, Rev Hilton Birtles) read some wise books, talk with people a lot, and along the way, are changed. They then come home to themselves and the divine, and realise that the sacred was there in their lives all the time.

Standing up for a Cause

I found this week's quotation, by Mahatma Gandhi, interesting: "Strength does not grow from physical force (effort) - rather from indomitable will."

And I guess he was talking about the power of non-violent resistance. In the case of India, the indomitable will of Gandhi's people was pitched against the power and might of the British Empire. And yet, the Indian people prevailed.

Today, the Extinction Rebellion movement is using similar tactics, to save our world from being destroyed by human exploitation and greed. The current issue of our Unitarian journal, The Inquirer, Holland Morrell of Doncaster Unitarians shared her experience of joining the XR protests one day last month:

"Once I got past the police, it was actually incredibly peaceful. There was singing, chanting, speeches, friendships being forged, and hot food freely available. There was an atmosphere of quiet passion and reverence for the Earth. It felt similar to stepping into a place of worship - the same sense of inner stillness, awe, wisdom, peace, and fellowship."

The centre spread of the issue has the headline 'Unitarians on the front line', in which four more Unitarians shared their experience of joining the XR protests in London. Elizabeth Harley, a ministry student from Bridport, wrote:

"The reason we travelled [to London] is simple: the destructive effects of corporate greed on our planet is present tense. Displaced people are suffering right now, and it will get worse. We need to think and act globally with a green conscience, a kind heart. Until we are all safe, we all suffer. This is a religious imperative for me, I am joining in with what we have got - and that is the imperfect but growing and impressively resilient Extinction Rebellion."

If enough people have the indomitable will to prevail, change will come. We need to stand up and be counted.

Allowing for Growth

Today is a special day for me... forty years ago yesterday, my husband and I started dating. And twenty-five years ago today, my darling daughter was born.

So this week's quotation, by George Bernard Shaw, has resonated with me. "The sage lets flowers stand, without picking them."

Because the best things in life take time to come to perfection, and may only do so in the soil in which their seeds were nurtured. My husband and I have grown together, from young people in our early twenties to our present eminence (!) And I have watched my daughter grow and blossom into a wonderful young adult, whom we love and who loves us and her brother.

In both cases, the relationship has taken time and care and nurturing. And leaving alone to do its own thing. Which has not been easy, on occasion. Especially in the case of parenting. There have been times in both our children's lives when I have been seriously tempted to meddle, to intervene, even to "make it all better".

Sometimes, it is the hardest thing in the world to stand back, and let people you love go their own way, and learn from their experiences. Knowing that if you don't, they won't grow into their proper selves. I've been so very lucky, that both my children have grown up into loving, caring, functional adults.

I am grateful to Libby Purves, for some words I read when my son was very small: "Children have to be fed, clothed against the elements, conversed with a great deal, protected from evildoers and poisons, and given the chance to play and read and observe the adult world. They have to be educated, to take in the knowledge and wisdom their society has developed, and encouraged to take it further as they grow up. They have to be loved and valued, and allowed to bestow their own love on family and friends."

This struck a deep chord with me, and I have tried to follow it, for the past nearly-thirty years. And it has borne wonderful fruit. She also wrote, "to weigh a theoretical danger against an overwhelming love is the hardest thing in the world."

Yes. Letting the flowers alone, so that they can grow into their own perfection, is the best way. As Kahil Gibran wisely advised, "Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself... You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth."

So today, I am happy... I am blessed.

Taking the Longer View

As the calendar moves relentlessly towards the end of October, with all its attendant Brexit uncertainties, I was reassured by this week's quotation, by Jean Paul: "Das Meer der Zeit ist nur eine Woge auf dem Meere der Ewigkeit." Which being translated, means, "The sea of time is but a wave on the sea of eternity."

The image, of the boat at dusk, peacefully waiting for the sun to set, is a restful one. And these past weeks have been anything but restful... I'm nearly sixty now, and have never known the country to be so stirred up about anything. Brexit has divided families, communities and the country. Every day, there is more news, often conflicting with the news of the day before. I have friends who are British citizens living in the EU, and they are in a desperate state of anxiety and uncertainty, unsure what the implications will be, but certain that it will not be good news. One friend has emigrated to Canada, another to Sweden, to escape it all. And others have acquired Irish or Polish passports, so that their links with the EU may not be broken.

This blog is not political, so I will leave it there. Except to pray that politicians might raise their heads for a moment and consider not the next day, or the next week, but think longer term, for the greater good of the country. Whatever happens on 31st October, many people are going to be unhappy, and it is difficult to see a way forward.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is the the human spirit is very good at surviving even the worst things that life can throw at it. Whatever happens, we will get through it somehow. It remains to be seen what the consequences of leaving the EU will be, if we do leave, but I pray for ordinary people, people like us, that our lives will not be made worse, not disrupted, whatever happens. And that we might fix our eyes on the sea of eternity, and regain some kind of perspective.

Small Pleasures

This week's quotation is by Johannes Kepler, a 17th century German astronomer and mathematician, whose books on planetary motion and other astronomical matters I catalogued when I was on my placement year at the Royal Greenwich Observatory, then at Herstmonceux Castle in East Sussex. He had an influence on many of his peers and successors, including Isaac Newton.

(portrait Wikimedia commons.org)

He wrote, "Hundert kleine Freuden sind tausendmal mehr wert als eine Grosse." Which being translated, means, "A hundred little joys are worth a thousand times more than one big one."

And I believe he's right. If we are awake and aware enough to notice the small pleasures of every day, our underlying happiness will surely be greater than if we are only lifted out of our doldrums by one big happy event.

There used to be a blog called 'Three Beautiful Things', now sadly defunct, in which the author posted daily about three things which had attracted her attention as 'beautiful'. I used to read it daily, and gained an appreciation of the practice of searching for small, everyday pleasures which would lift my spirits.

Today, for example, I have asked a friend a favour, and she has responded positively and enthusiastically. And I'm going to get round to clearing the desk in my study, which has been cluttered and distracting for too long. This afternoon, I intend to spend crocheting a baby blanket, which is turning out really well so far.

Three small pleasures, all in one day. Why not give it a try? If it worked for Kepler, and it works for me, maybe it will work for you...

Working Together

Last week's quotation, by Friedensreich Hundertwasser, could not be more apposite: "Wenn einer allein traümt, ist es nur ein Traum. Wenn viele gemeinsam traümen, ist das der Anfang einer neuer Wirklichkeit."

Which being translated, means: "When one dreams alone, it is only a dream. When many dream together, it is the beginning of a new reality."

And this week, millions of protesters are gathering to support the Extinction Rebellion movement. So many people have been galvanised into action by the grim realisation that our planet is under threat. That our lives, and the lives of all living creatures and plants, are under threat. That it is almost too late to do anything about it. But that nevertheless, the effort has to be made.

Many Unitarians will be spending at least part of this week down in London to join the protests. I am so glad that we are a part of this, because we only have one planet. They are seeking to help people to understand that there are better ways to live, based on a lifestyle which Unitarian author John Naish calls "enoughness". 

Because at the moment we are a society of consumers, with our heads buried firmly in the sand. Natural resources such as gas and oil are running out and the biodiversity on which our planet depends for its health is at risk from the activities of humankind.

Extinction Rebellion has published a book called This is Not A Drill. In it, the authors write: "This is a crisis that requires radical system change on a scale never seen before."  They write: "The challenge we now face is extremely daunting. Because the problem, unfortunately, is not just the climate. The problem is ecology. The problem is the environment. The problem is biodiversity. The problem is capitalism. The problem is colonialsim. The problem is power. The problem is inequality. The problem is greed, and corruption, and money, and this tired, broken system. The problem is our complete and utter failure to imagine any meaningful alternative."

The book has some wonderful suggestions for ways in which every person can join the rebellion, by choosing sustainability over consumerism, by campaigning to *make* governments and industry understand what is at stake. 

This could be our last chance... let's work together to make it happen.

Using Our Gifts

This week's quotation is by Florence Nightingale. In translation, it reads, "If you are born with wings, you should do all you can to use them for flying."

The picture shows a ballet dancer, balancing gracefully on her toes. But ballet is definitely not my gift. Each of us is an unique human being, with our own unique gifts. But how often do we stand in our own light, paralysed by comparing ourselves with others? I know I do.

US President Theodore Roosevelt once said: "Comparison is the thief of joy." I've also heard that quote as "the thief of happiness". And it's so true. We can be feeling great about ourselves, and then compare what we are doing, who we are, with somebody else, and be instantly plunged into gloom. It's a bad trick our heads play on us, to keep us small and not brave. It prevents us from using our wings, from doing what gives us joy.

My particular Achilles' heel of comparison is reading other people's words, then believing that I couldn't ever write so brilliantly, so vividly, so why bother? I have to tell myself quite sternly that they are them and I am me, and that only I can write from my particular perspective. So I pick myself up, dust myself down and take up my pen (or keyboard) again.

Everyone has wings, particular gifts. Let's use them as best we can, to make the world a happier place, and ourselves happier, more fulfilled people.

The Kindness of Strangers

Maz and I are just back from a wonderful ten day holiday in the German cities of Dresden and Leipzig - each very different to the other, but both fascinating.

And I have been struck by the great kindness of strangers on two occasions during our holiday. The first was last Monday. We had been using an elderly travel guide to Leipzig, which told us that the German National Library, and more specifically, the German Book and Writing Museum, was open on that day.

When we got there, it was closed. There were two people on duty at the desk (they were having some building work done, I think) and when my face fell at the news, they told us to go to the main Library and ask at the Information desk. This we did, and a wonderfully kind Librarian listened to my halting German, and said she thought it might be possible.

One phone call later, and we were given exclusive access to the Museum's permanent exhibition, which we had all to ourselves. They needn't have done it - it was quite clear that it was closed on a Monday. But she was kind, and let us in. And it was fantastic - a real highlight of the holiday. Highlights included a Gutenberg Bible and a Kelmscott Chaucer. I went back afterwards to thank her, and another librarian was on duty. But I *think* I managed to convey our gratitude. I hope so.

The second incident occurred at Heathrow Airport, when we were waiting for the minibus to take us back to our long-stay car park. When it arrived, Maz leapt forward to wave it down, and left his camera bag with all its cameras and lenses, plus his laptop lying on the ground. I hadn't noticed. But a kind gent who'd just got off picked it up and asked me, "Is this yours? I thought you were coming back for it."

Again, he needn't have done it. But he did.

So I am very, very grateful for the kindness of strangers.

Rising Again

This week's quotation is by Rainer Maria Rilke: "Man muss nie verzweifeln, wenn einem etwas verloren geht, ein Mensch oder eine Freude oder ein Glück. Es kommt alles noch viel herrlicher wieder.

Which being translated, means, "One must never despair, when something is lost - a person or a joy or a happiness. Everything will become more beautiful again."

But it is very natural to despair when something is lost, particularly a person. I think that what Rilke is saying is, however black things may appear at certain times, don't give up, because eventually life will get better.

Which is fine and even comforting, if you're a natural optimist, like I am. But I know that certain friends of mine have a far more bleak outlook on life, and are more pessimistic about eventual outcomes.

I *wish* I could wave a magic wand, and make their pain go away. But I know that I can't.

I have learned that the only thing anyone can do, for someone who is depressed, is to be there with them, not trying to fix them, not trying to cheer them up, not trying to make the pain go away. Just being there, alongside them, so that they know they are not alone.



May we all be such friends, each to one another.

True Friends

This week's quote, by Carl Spitteler, is another post on friendship: "Menschen zu finden, die mit uns fühlen und empfinden, ist wohl das schönste Glück auf Erden."

Which being translated, means: "To find people who feel, and empathise with us, is probably the best luck on Earth."

Hmm. Up to a point. Yes, it is "the best luck on Earth" to find a friend with whom you can share deeply and feel heard, But I also believe that in the normal run of things, to *have* such a friend, you need to *be* such a friend.

Because friendship is a two-way street. and even the most empathic, kind person will find it hard to remain empathic and kind, if their kindness and empathy is received with hurtful words and negativity.

But I also appreciate that there are times when we hit rock bottom, and cannot give anything positive back. When the black dog takes hold, even survival is a tough call. At times such as these, an empathic friend is absolutely the best luck on Earth. Depression is a real and debilitating illness. And I'm not qualified to talk about it, because I have never suffered from it. And certainly not qualified to judge anyone who is suffering from it. I hope that I would be given the wisdom to just be with that person, alongside them, so that they know they are not alone.

May we all strive to reach out, and be that friend to one another.

Two Souls in One Body

This week's quotation is by Aristotle: "Freundschaft ist eine Seele in zwei Körpern". Which being translated, means: "Friendship is two souls in one body." And I have been truly blessed in my friends.

What are the qualities of a good friend? I believe that they include compassion, love, kindness and loyalty.

So what might compassion look like in the context of friendship? It means trying to put yourself into your friend's shoes, to really understand how they are feeling, so that you can respond appropriately to their joys and concerns. It doesn't mean feeling sorry for them, or trying to "make it all better". It means truly being there for them when they need you, whether it is to celebrate or commiserate.

Love in friendship is the same as it is in any other relationship. Love is an amazing thing. I very much like science fiction author Raymond Feist’s definition: “Love is a recognition, an opportunity to say ‘There is something about you I cherish.’ It doesn’t entail marriage, or even physical love. There’s love of parents (to which I would add love of family), love of city or nation, love of life, and love of people. All different, all love.”

And love is fundamental to human well-being. I am sure we can all remember those sad, sad photos of those little children in Romanian orphanages, left in their cots 24/7, with no attention paid to them, who had withdrawn into themselves, totally unable to relate to anyone else, because they had been starved of love and attention. And it is well known that in bringing up children, even “bad attention” is better than being ignored.

I would go so far as to say that we can only become fully rounded people if we love and are loved in return. Jesus recognised this when he described “Love your neighbour as yourself” as one of the two greatest commandments.

Building loving relationships with all the people we come into contact with may sound an unrealistic proposition, but stick with it; the rewards are beyond compare. Starting from where you are is the important thing, and building up slowly. Resolving to live your life in a spirit of love means recognising that there is “that of God in everyone”, to use a Quakerly phrase. 

Kindness in friendships is closely related to compassion. It means responding to the best in another person, and forgiving the worst. It means making a positive difference to their lives, by small acts of kindness - remembering to send a birthday card, giving them a ring "just because", listening with the ear of your heart, and knowing them well enough to tiptoe round their tender spots and rejoice with them when they are happy.

And kindness need not be limited to friends. Let me tell you a true story, about the effect of a random act of kindness: It is amazing how little it takes to make a difference to the feel and shape of someone's day. A while ago I went to visit a friend in hospital, and, as is customary (or so I thought) I took her a bunch of flowers. Only to learn that flowers on wards are now strictly forbidden because of "water contamination". So I had to take them away again. But at least my friend realised that I had been thinking of her.

My original thought had been to stick them back on the back seat of my car, and take them back home with me. But then, at the main entrance to the hospital, I walked past two women (I guess mother and grown-up daughter) who were obviously waiting for a taxi or something. On impulse, I presented the older lady with the flowers. And her whole face lit up: "It's my birthday on Monday!" she said. So I wished her a happy birthday and went on my way.

I love the words of Frederick Buechner about how we act towards strangers can have a real knock-on effect. he writes: "As we move around this world and as we act with kindness, perhaps, or with indifference or with hostility towards the people we meet, we are setting the great spider web atremble. The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops, or in what far place my touch will be felt."

It is lovely to think that perhaps my gift of flowers to that woman might have that sort of impact on her day, and hence on those around her. It also made my day - her happiness made me feel good! It is amazing how little it takes to make a difference - to my life, and to that of others.

Loyalty in friendships is such an important thing. The sticking point of any friendship will come when your friend does or says something you cannot be happy about. If your friendship is true, you may be disappointed in them, but will still try to understand where they are coming from, and stand by them. A friend who deserts their friend at a time when things go wrong is a weak and feeble friend at best. The loyalty of one true friend can make an enormous difference to how one copes in a crisis. If just one person stands by you through thick and thin, it can make life bearable. To take an example from the Harry Potter books, Harry is gutted when his best friend Ron turns against him in The Goblet of Fire, because he (Ron) believes that Harry put his name into the goblet and didn't share how to do this. It is only because his other best friend, Hermione, stands by him, that he gets through the next difficult weeks.

Compassion, love, kindness and loyalty... that is what friendship means to me.

The Joys of Gathered Community

I have just returned from a wonderful, wonder-full week at the Nightingale Centre at Great Hucklow. Summer School 2019.

(I'm not sure who this photo is by, but whoever it was, thank you!)

Our theme this year was 'Theology in the Flesh: How might our embodied experience shape our answers to life's ultimate questions?' It was such a rich week... full of deep sharing, a wide range of optional activities and, above all, Summer School magic.

I have been attending Summer School each year from 2009, and every year it is the same... a bunch of disparate Unitarians from all over the UK and further afield come together in community and create something so very special. I come away at the end of the week feeling enriched and grounded and whole.

While I was there this year, I felt moved to write a prayer:

Spirit of Life and Love,
Thank you for the many blessings of Summer School;
For our sacred community, where it is okay to be authentic;
For the theme talk speakers, group leaders, worship leaders, optional session leaders and the Summer School panel, who make it all possible;
For each and every one of us, who choose to risk being vulnerable;
For the staff of the Nightingale Centre, whose quiet efficiency makes us feel so welcome;
For the joys of reunions with old friends, and for making new ones;
For the beauties of the Derbyshire countryside, which enfolds and surrounds us;
For sunlight on green grass and the sound of children's laughter;
For the chance to learn new ways of thinking and understanding, and kinder ways of being together;
For the stretching of bodies, minds and hearts, through our groups and activities and worship;
For giving and receiving,
For sharing and silence,
For food and faith and fellowship;
For all these contributions to the magic which is Summer School,
I am truly grateful.
Amen

The Power of Scent

The olfactory sense is the one that triggers memories most easily. Certain smells or scents can spin us back through years of memory, to a particular situation or person. So I agree with this week's quote from Christian Morgenstern: "Der Duft der Dinge ist die Sehnsucht, die sie in uns nach sich erwecken."

Which being translated, means: "The scent of things is the yearning they arouse in us." And the memories will be unique to each person.

For me, one of the most evocative scents is that of Gold Block pipe tobacco, which my father has smoked all my life. I only have to catch a whiff of it to think of him. And the scent of new hay takes me back to my countryside childhood, when I used to help bring the bails of hay back to the farm.

For many people, freshly-baked bread is a strong hunger trigger. Which is why many supermarkets which have bakeries pipe it round the store. And the aroma of real coffee is enticing too. Ironically, I adore the smell of real coffee brewing, but prefer the taste of my favourite Free Trade instant.

Scent can also be a negative trigger. When I quit drinking, nearly six years ago, the complicated scent of red wine would fill me with yearning, like Morgenstern says. Even now, I can smell it yards away. But today, I just sigh and move on. And when I was giving up smoking (on the numerous occasions I did so) the scent of someone else's cigarette was a powerful source of temptation.

Which scents fill you with yearning? With sadness? With joy?

Luck or planning?

This week's postcard shows a bottle on a sandy shore, with a message in it. The quotation is by Jonathan Swift: "Grosse Wendungen werden nicht immer durch starke Hände herbeigeführt, sondern durch ein glückliches Zugreifen im geeigneten Augenblick."

Google translate was a bit iffy about this, but I *think* it means: "Great changes are not always brought about by strong hands; but by/through a happy access at the appropriate moment."

In other words, no matter how carefully we plan something, there is still an element of luck or grace involved in bringing our project to fruition.

In the past few years, I have come to realise that God's grace is everywhere, if we had but eyes to see, and ears to hear. I believe that through sacred living - weaving moment of attention into our everyday lives and recognising the sacred there, we will find it. Sacred living is about living with a new level of awareness. It is about going through our days paying attention to what is happening at each passing moment. It is about noticing the presence of the divine, the numinous, everywhere: in the natural world, in other people, in ourselves, and in things that happen to us. Sacred living is about rediscovering our sense of wonder, and living our lives in response to that. Sacred living is about truly appreciating what we have. About being awake to God's grace at work in the world.

Next week, I will be co-facilitating an engagement group at Summer School. My co-facilitator and I have planned every session down to the last detail, but I am well aware that it will take luck and grace and the holding of sacred space for the usual Summer School magic to happen. I pray that it will do.

Love's Gift

This week's quotation, by Rabindranath Tagore, puzzled me somewhat. "Love's gift cannot be given. It waits to be accepted."

Unless we see 'Love' as God.... who cannot storm our hearts by force, but knocks politely, waiting patiently for us to let Him/Her in.

As Paul famously wrote in his first Letter to the Corinthians, "Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way/ it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."

I believe that the best kind of human love shares these attributes. If we truly love someone, we accept them just the way they are. If the person we love behaves badly, we hold on to our love with everything we've got, and hope that our love will eventually be accepted.

And unless we can open our hearts to God, we will never truly experience His/Her Love.

I am not a mystic, but once, I had a vision of the truth, which I can only believe came from God. A few years ago, I bought myself a Celtic-style silver cross. For many years, I had repudiated the symbol of the Christian cross, associating it with death and failure. But my attendance on the Encounter course at the London Centre for Spiritual Direction was opening my heart in ways I had not foreseen.

And one morning, I was applying some moisturiser to my face, using a magnifying mirror for the purpose, when the mirror slipped, canting to a different angle. And I noticed the cross around my neck and realised that instead of a circle at the centre, it had a heart.

This hit me with the force of a revelation. I saw that God was Love at the centre of everything. A belief which has changed my life. For the first time, I was able to accept God's love for me, and to realise that my job in the world was to love others in that same wholehearted way.

What's Past is Prologue

This week's quotation is by William Shakespeare, from The Tempest: "What's past is prologue."

Which could be interpreted to mean, do not think about the past - it is today and tomorrow which matter. On the other hand, human beings live sequentially - each one of us is the sum of all our yesterdays. We would not be the people we are today, were it not for the people and experiences in our pasts.

I guess that the use we make of our experiences is what matters. When bad things happen to us, as they surely will, sooner or later, it can be tempting to allow that bad experience to define who we are, how we approach and interact with everyone else. And to a certain extent, such caution is necessary; in the words of the old proverb "The burned hand teaches best." We can learn lessons from our past experiences, that is for sure.

But the natural human bent is to look forwards, rather than back. I love the words attributed to Kalidasa, which are quoted in the UUA hymnal, Singing the Living Tradition:

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.

I do believe that today is the only day that really matters. We can learn from the past, but we should not live there. And we can dream of the future, but only as much as we need to, to plan the work we need to do today.

Patience and Wisdom

This week's quotation was very timely for me. "Geduld ist die Gefährtin der Weisheit." by Aurelius Augustinus. Which being translated, means, "Patience is the companion of wisdom."

And I had little patience with the Google translation, which said that "Gefährtin" meant "danger". Then realised I had forgotten to put the umlaut over the "a". First lesson.

I think that what the author means is that if we try to rush ahead with anything, without taking the time to do the groundwork first, it will usually fail.

Fall flat on its face.

Ideas can inspire us, and we want to implement them straight away, but unless we take the time to bring other people with us, it is very possible that we will end up at the end of a very narrow branch, with someone sawing it off near the trunk.

In my own context, which is Unitarian ministry, this is especially important to remember. It often happens that a minister (or lay leader or committee member) has a wonderful new idea, then rushes off to make it happen, or to lay it before the committee, only to be met by lukewarm reactions, if not negative ones.

Unitarian ministry must be collaborative. The leaders in our movement must learn the patience to consult other people, to explain new concepts with patience, in order to help those other people feel his or her own enthusiasm for the project, whatever it is. This applies not only to BIG IDEAS, like removing the pews from a chapel, but also to small ideas, like moving the chalice from one place to another.

Change is difficult for most people. They are naturally resistant to change... very, very few people embrace it wholeheartedly, at least not at first hearing. So patience is needed to do the groundwork first, to explain the reasoning behind any new proposal, and to allow people time to mull the new idea over in their minds, so that they can ask questions about it. Leaders also need to be open to adapting new ideas, because someone has pointed out a flaw in our reasoning. This takes patience too, and also humility.

It is better to get people used to a new idea, by drip, dripping it slowly, rather than flooding their minds with it. Patience is the companion of wisdom.

Just Write

Yesterday, I attended my first ever Writing Retreat, organised by Writers' HQ. It started and 10.00 am and went on until 4.00 pm. There were hot and cold drinks on tap, and we stopped for two 15 minute breaks and one 45 minute lunch break. Apart from that, it was eleven writers, sitting around a square of tables with their laptops or notebooks, and just writing. We were asked to declare our goals at the beginning of the day, and I achieved mine comfortably. At the end of the day, I felt like this;

It was such a joy to be able to spend a whole day writing - no distractions, no phonecalls, no Wifi. Just writing.

And there are retreats for all kinds of creative talents going on around the country. A friend of mine recently attended a week-long icon writing retreat, and has come home with an exquisite icon of Christus Victor. And I know friends who have been on sewing retreats and created marvellous things.

I am so grateful to the people who organise these events, and allow people like me to "follow their bliss" in the words of Joseph Campbell. It would not have occurred to me that I could write for so long. And I was typing at my normal speed.

Of course, it was only first draft stuff but, nevertheless, I managed to get my ideas down on paper (or at least in Word document) and came away feeling fulfilled and proud, but also very tired.

The Key to the Door

This week's quote is by Charles Dickens. "Auch eine schwere Tür hat nur einen kleinen Schlüssel nötig." Which being translated, means: "Even a heavy door needs only a small key."

I have found this to be so true, throughout my life. It is possible to worry away at a seemingly insuperable problem, then inspiration comes, and everything falls into place. 

The metaphor of a key opening a door is a common one in our society. Without a key, it is difficult to step through the door of new knowledge, new insight. It is no accident that the word is also used to introduce the translation of lines on a graph, or figures in a diagram. Without the key, the graph or diagram remains incomprehensible. But with the key, it all begins to make sense.

Keys come in many shapes and forms, both literal and metaphorical. When I was growing up, it was a tradition to be given the key to the door of your parents' house on reaching the age of 21. 

"You've got the key to the door / never been twenty-one before." went the song.

In this case, the key is symbolic of the entrance into the world of adults. These days, children grow up far more quickly, and are considered 'adult' at the age of 18. By which time, many have had their own latch-key for years. And have been engaged in adult behaviours for years, too.

A key can also be a nudge from God, a revelation. Reading the first two pages of Alfred Hall's Beliefs of a Unitarian was a significant key for me, unlocking the wonderful faith of Unitarianism. It really did feel like a revelation from God, when I read those pages, more than 40 years ago. I felt as though I was stepping into a new world, which suddenly made sense to me.

Books can often be keys to new worlds of understanding. So can films, television shows and the Internet.

They can also unlock knowledge we would rather not have. But once the door has been unlocked, it is not possible to 'unknow' the knowledge it has been hiding. We have to incorporate it into our lives and, if it has alerted us to some evil in the world, it is our responsibility to do something about it.

Like Pandora with her box, we have to live with the knowledge we gain. Fortunately, we always have hope, the only virtue that remained when she had opened the lid.

Tending to the Fire in your Soul

I really love the message on this week's postcard, by Vincent van Gogh: "Man soll das Feuer in seiner Seele nie ausgehen lassen, sondern es schüren."

Which being translated means: "One should never let the fire in one's soul go out, but should stir it up."

This is advice that all ministers and worship leaders and people who spend their lives giving to others should heed. Because we cannot give of our best, from our souls, if we do not also nourish those souls by receiving what we need - worship, inspiration, knowledge, hope.

This was brought home to me this week, when I (and many Unitarian ministerial colleagues) attended MOSA - the annual conference at Harris Manchester College, Oxford. My friend Kate McKenna reflected on this on her return home... that ministers need to experience worship without being responsible for it.

Because it's not possible to give out nourishment, if we ourselves are empty inside. Which is why attending events such as the General Assembly meetings, the Ministerial Fellowship conferences and Summer School is so important to me. They feed my soul, enable me to recharge my emotional and spiritual batteries, and return to my vocation refreshed and strengthened. The fire in my soul is stirred up by new experiences, by worshipping with others, and burns brightly again.

And this doesn't only apply to ministers and worship leaders. It applies to all creative people, and to all people who wish to live wholeheartedly, with all of themselves. Which is why I'm going on a one-day writing retreat on 13th July - to feed my soul, and re-inspire me. There are many retreats and events of all kinds where you can go to learn new things, make new friends, and come back to your ordinary life energised and enriched.

If you are feeling undernourished, lonely, in need of encouragement and energy boosting, why not find an event to go to?

Feeling Blessed

We are just home from a week's holiday in mid-Wales. The weather started off grey and overcast, but finished up with blue skies and sunshine. Here is my favourite beach in the late afternoon...

Benar Beach

We got up late, had leisurely breakfasts, then headed out to explore this beautiful part of Wales. Dolgoch Falls, Portmeirion, Harlech Castle (and the wonderful ice cream shop just below it), the Panorama Walk above Barmouth, and Bodnant Gardens. We ate some fabulous meals, and relaxed each evening, either playing some hilarious games of pool or watching DVDs together.

Dolgoch Falls

Each day was different, each day was wonderful. Full of wonder. Two things made this holiday special: the people I was with (husband, daughter and daughter's fiancé) and the fact that I let go of "ought to" and "need to" and simply went with the flow. Whatever we did, wherever we went, I tried to be present and full of wonder and joy and gratitude.

I think that this week has been a lesson for me in the gentle art of being present. Of having no particular goal in mind. Of simply being.

Consequently, I feel blessed.

The Difference between Loneliness and Solitude

The different German to English translation engines had trouble with this week's quotation, from Wilhelm von Humboldt: "Die wenigsten Menschen verstehen, wie unendlich viel in der Einsamkeit liegt."

Some talked about "infinite loneliness" which I thought missed the point. My favourite translation is: "Very few people understand how infinitely much there is (can be found) in solitude."

Because there is a huge difference between feeling lonely and being alone. The first is a negative emotion, in which the person feels incomplete without the company of others. The second is a simple statement of fact. Being alone can be a time of rich contemplation, or of simple enjoyment of one's own company, or a welcome retreat from the hurly-burly of life.

I used to be afraid of loneliness and found the company of people infinitely preferable. As I have got older, and farther on in my spiritual journey, I find that I welcome solitude, as a time to think, to reflect, to spend time in my own company, to come near to the Divine. And if I spend too much time in the company of too many people, I need a lot of time alone to come back to myself.

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" a la Garbo, but that I need some kind of balance between being with people and being on my own.

Of course, I do like being with people (I'm a minister, after all!) and being in Unitarian community is an important part of my life. But the time when I am on my own is when I do my best thinking, when I can read for hours without feeling guilty, when I can meditate, pray, write. I find I am at my best alone, or in the company of one or two dear friends or family members.

Building Bridges

This week's card has a quote by Ivo Andric: "Von allem, was der Mensch baut und aufbaut, gibt es nichts Besseres und Wertvolleres als Brücken." Which being translated, means: "Of everything that humankind builds, there is nothing better and worthier than bridges."

It is appropriate that this quote has come during Pride Month. When I have just seen on Facebook a story about two lesbians being violently attacked on a London bus for kissing.... we still have so far to go, before the LGBTQ+ community is fully accepted by all.

We are all inter-connected human beings. We all have a spark of the Divine within us. We are all utterly worthy of being treated with compassion, dignity and respect. Nobody should be discriminated against on account of their gender, sexuality, class, race, age or any other distinguishing feature.

So we need to build bridges of understanding. We need to reach out to those who still have closed minds, and help them to understand that Different is not the same as Devilish. That every single person is a worthy member of the human race.

I love the prayer by GA President, Celia Cartwright:

O God of All Creation, God of Love,
We pray that the walls that divide us shall be takne down,
And with the bricks and stones let us build bridges between us,
That we may learn from each other not to fear each othere,
And so may more easily come to keep faith
With the Greatest Commandment,
That is: To love our God, with all our heart and mind and strength,
And each other as ourselves.

Amen. Amen.

T

Daydreams and Visions

This week's quotation is by Edgar Allen Poe. It reads, "Die am Tag träumen, kennen viele Dinge, die den Menschen entgehen, die nur nachts träumen."

Which being translated, means: "Those who dream during the day know many things that escape the people who only dream at night."

I think that what Poe is getting at, is that there is a certain quality to the daydreaming mind, which allows the brain to make connections which it would not otherwise make. An article on Wikipedia explains "Daydreaming is the stream of consciousness that detaches from current external tasks when attention drifts to a more personal and internal direction."

It goes on to summarise an article about the five potential functions of daydreaming, from the Canadian Journal of Experimental Psychology, by Benjamin Mooneyham and Jonathan Schooler, the first two of which are future thinking and creative thinking:

"Future thinking, also known as autobiographical thinking, serves as a way to speculate and anticipate future events. Though it's costly for current external activities performances, the benefit will be paid off later, since future thinking allows better plan and preparation of the future goals.

Creative thinking is another function of daydreaming associated with increased creativity. When tackling unsolved problems, the most productive incubation periods in terms of creative solutions are those in undemanding conditions. ... Thus, it's reasonable to hypothesise that daydreaming plays an important role in generating creative problem-solving process."

So daydreaming can allow us to gently integrate our thoughts about future events, and to be more creative in our thinking. I'm sure that many of us are familiar with the process of worrying away at a problem, only for the solution to present itself when we  give up and turn to something else. Barbara O'Brien describes this process beautifully in her book about her experience of schizophrenia, Operators and Things:

"The unconscious... when it is presented with a problem, does more than search its files with lightning fingers. It appears to search and also to consider, evaluate, weigh. First, it must understand the problem. And this it can also do. It can grasp an intricate concept. The conscious mind broods over its problem, and the unconscious, listening to the brooding, grasps the problem.
It searches its files, evaluates, and sends up an answer. The answer is rejected by the conscious mind. The conscious mind broods on the reason for the rejection and the unconscious listens, understands, gets to work again with the new concept and comes up with another answer. Still not good enough? Why? The conscious mind broods again and the unconscious gets to work again, and works until it finds an answer acceptable to the conscious mind. The conscious mind stops brooding and celebrates and the unconscious rests. For the time being, the organism is out of danger."

It is as though daydreaming allows people to think on a different level, and come up with creative responses to what our rational, conscious minds are thinking about. So yes, daydreaming can be beneficial, because it allows us to use more of our brains, to think more creatively, to dream of possibilities which might be rejected by our conscious minds, at least at first.