Hope in the Wintertime

"Am Grunde des Herzens eines jeden Winters liegt ein Frühlingsahnen." These are the words of Kahlil Gibran, which translated read: "At the bottom of every winter lies a spring tree."

It has been a long, cold winter for many of us. Not only have there been a succession of cold, grey days, when we only venture out when we must, but cold, grey days in our hearts too, with all the depressing political news. In the UK, it hardly matters whether one voted Remain or Leave, Brexit has split us down the middle as a nation. The government seems to lurch from crisis to crisis, and it is hard to find anything to be happy about.

And yet ...

The words of Kahlil Gibran may be read as a promise - that this winter will end, that spring will come again. If you look back at history, there have been many times when the situation has been as bad, if not worse, than it is now. I appreciate that for particular individuals, life has never been so bad, so challenging. But I have to believe that society has the capability to change, that people can choose to look after each other better, to ensure that no child goes hungry, that no family is split up at the border.

But this won't happen unless it is we who make it happen. It's all very well talking and writing about how to right wrongs, but we have to roll up our sleeves, dig deep and take action. It is up to each and every one of us to decide what we will do, to ensure that Gibran's promise comes true, that Spring will come again, that Winter will pass.

Becoming Aware of the Light

This week's quotation is by Bettina von Arnim: "Wer sich nach Licht sehnt, ist nicht lichtlos, denn die Sehnsucht ist schon Licht."

Which being translated reads: "Anyone who longs for light is not lightless, for yearning is already light."

Seeing this quotation sent me back to Richard Rohr's wonderful book Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer. In it, he explains how we can only become aware of the presence of God in our lives by detaching from our monkey-mind ego-driven selves, and finding Him/Her/It in the stillness. He argues that the busy, acquisitive world we live in is the antithesis of this stillness, and is the reason why it is so hard for modern people to let go and simply be.

The Buddha, Jesus, Hafiz and many other mystical teachers all stress the importance of being awake; of being aware of what is happening in the present moment. Rohr shares an amusing conversation between a Zen master and his disciple:

"Is there anything that I can do to make myself enlightened?
"As little as you can do to make the sun rise in the morning."
"Then of what use are the spiritual exercises you prescribe?"
"To make sure you are not asleep when the sun begins to rise."

Rohr says: "We cannot attain the presence of God because we're already totally in the presence of God. What's absent is awareness. Little do we realise that God is maintaining us in existence with every breath we take.As we take another, it means that God is choosing us now and now and now." (emphasis mine)

Which is why I try to sit in silence for 15 minutes every morning ... so that I will not be asleep when the sun begins to rise.

Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

This week's post is about with-holding judgement. And it applies as much to self-judgement as to judging others. The quotation, by Jeanne Moreau, says: "It's not the facade that matters, but the treasures inside."

There are some words by St Francis de Sales, which I love: "When it comes to being gentle, start with yourself. Don't get upset with your imperfections ... It's a great mistake - because it leads nowhere - to get angry because you are angry, upset at being upset, disappointed because you are disappointed ... You cannot correct a mistake by repeating it."

"You cannot correct a mistake by repeating it." Oh. How often do we pile anger on top of anger, upset on top of upset, and disappointment on top of disappointment, rather than trying to gently, rationally explore how not to repeat our mistakes? I know I do ...

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus bids us to be wary of judging others if our own copybook is less than spotless: "Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgement you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbour's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbour 'Let me take the speck out of your eye' while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbour's eye."

It is only too easy for us to judge others without really knowing them. To judge them by how they look, what they say, how they act. Without knowing what is in their hearts, what their motivations are, what their life experience has been, which has led them to this point in their lives.

Let us try to look beyond the outward facade, and see the treasures within.

The Two Most Beautiful Things

Last September, my husband and I spent a gorgeous week in Nuremberg. While we were there, I picked up a weekly calendar with 53 postcards, called Weisheiten 2019 (Wisdom 2019). Each page consists of a picture postcard and a wisdom quote.

So this year, I'm going to blog once a week, using these prompts.

"The two most beautiful things are the home from which we come, and the home to which we hike."

Well, I don't do much hiking, but I love returning, both to my own home, and to my parents' home. Especially at special times, like Christmas, Easter and family birthdays. This Christmas, my daughter and her fiancé came home on Christmas Eve and stayed for three days, returning to their home on the 27th. And we all travelled over to Worcestershire on Boxing Day, which my mother insists on calling 'Christmas Day Two', to spend time with the extended family. It was a time of warmth and love and sharing, for which I am grateful still.

Because I know that Christmas is not an easy time for many - for those who have lost their parents, or are alienated from their families, or have been uprooted from their homes (for whatever reason), or have no home to go to, or come from. For all these, Christmas is a time to be got through somehow, endured with gritted teeth.

And I am reminded, as always at this time of year, of the wise words of Howard Thurman:

When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins;
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.

Let us live to make it so.