The Larger View

The title of this post is taken from a hymn in the Unitarian hymnbook, Hymns for Living. The words are by John Andrew Storey, one of our best modern hymn writers, and they urge us to listen to, be open to, the wisdom of other faiths.

This week's quote has a similar message, I believe. The words of Richard Wagner "Der Blick über die Welt hinaus ist der einzige, der die Welt versteht." Which may be translated "The view beyond the world is the only one who understands the world."

Only the Divine can see the whole picture - we as imperfect mortals can only have a partial view. But, we can at least try to see, to understand, the point of view of the other, rather than becoming entrenched behind our own viewpoints, which can easily turn into prejudice, fear, distrust, and even hatred.

And this applies not only to people of other countries, other faiths, but also to our neighbours, the members of our local community. Whose views may often be very different from our own. Who are we to say that their views are invalid, wrong? Who are we to say that we have the only correct view?

I guess I'm saying that we ought to at least try to listen to the views of other people, before instantly leaping to judgement. Because if we had their life experiences, our views also might be different.

Or perhaps to realise that even people whose views are different from our own are still "unique, precious, children of God", as the Quakers have it.

I'm not saying that we should not stand up for our own beliefs, our own principles, nor that we should not defend the right of others to live in freedom and peace. Of course we should. But I also believe that at least attempting to understand the other point of view is better than instant condemnation.

Rose-coloured Spectacles

This week's quote is by Marcel Proust. "Sehnsucht lässt alle Dinge blühen." Which means "Nostalgia makes all things bloom."

Which I guess is about living in the past, or looking back to the past and only remembering the good bits. For example, if I think about Summer holidays when I was a child, the sun is always shining and I am always happy.

Whereas actually, if I think back objectively, rather than just being nostalgic about it, I can definitely remember any number of rainy days in Wales, when we spent our time indoors, playing board games. Which was enjoyable in another way, but not wall-to-wall sunshine.

Sometimes, nostalgia is harmless. Looking back at happy memories is harmless. But when we look back at the past and re-write it, it can be dangerous. I can never hear the phrase "the good old days" without a shudder. Because they weren't... The good old days are a product of selective amnesia, that we fall for at our peril.

Politicians are masters (and mistresses) of the nostalgia game. Current policies are advocated, because they will bring us back to a glorious past. Which never existed. Not ever.

The only time that is real is the present moment. All else is either memory, or anticipation. So both have an element of fantasy about them, because memory is sometimes faulty and anticipation is often idealised, rarely realistic.

I wonder, how many present moments do we skate over, not appreciating them, because we are too busy either yearning back to a fictionalised past or hoping for an idealised future?

Appreciating the Whole

It took me a while to puzzle out what Hans Christian Anderson meant by this week's quote: "Wenn man sich von den Bergen entfernt, so erblickt man sie erst recht in ihrer wahren Gestalt; so ist es auch mit den Freunden."

Which being roughly translated, means: "When you are far away from the mountains, you can see them in their true forms, this is also true of friends."

I understand the first half easily - when you see a mountain from far off, you can see its beauty and majesty as a whole. Whereas if you are closer to it, or even climbing up it, it's difficult to appreciate the whole of it. Especially, perhaps, when you think you're getting near the top, and you come to what you thought was the horizon, and there is another long bit to climb.

There are so many different ways of interpreting the second half. It could mean that you only appreciate your friends when they're not around, or when you've lost their friendship. Or it could mean that when you're away from them, you miss them.

But I think it means that it is often difficult to appreciate your friends as individual human beings, as whole people, when they are close to you, inter-connected with you, involved in your life. And that sometimes, we need to make the effort to see them objectively, to insert that little distance between ourselves and them, in order to understand them clearly. And not to impose our own thoughts and feelings on them.

Perhaps it is only when we are at a (little) distance to our friends that we can see them whole, and truly appreciate them as unique, precious children of God.

Room to Breathe

This week's postcard is an idyllic scene - a white beach in front of a blue sea, in the sunshine. The ideal place to rest and restore one's soul, perhaps.

Just looking at it makes me yearn for a few peaceful days off. And the quotation, by Victor Levin, says: "Geniesse deine Freiheit und gib deiner Seele Raum zum Atmen."

"Enjoy your freedom and give your soul room to breathe."

I wonder, how often do we do that, even on holiday? In our family, the main holiday each year is spent exploring cities, which is great fun, and very interesting, even satisfying, but it is rarely about giving my soul room to breathe. Walking holidays near lakes and mountains do that, but again, they're still active.

I don't think I've ever been on holiday, and just rested. Just. Rested. Often, when I come back from an exploring-a-new-city holiday, we've packed in so much to our few days away, that I come home needing another holiday to get over it!

It's interesting that the derivation of the word "holiday" is holy day. On holy days, we do stop and rest, and give our souls room to breathe in the resulting freedom.

Hucklow Summer School helps me to do exactly what Levin advises: enjoy my freedom and give my soul room to breathe. A week in the Nightingale Centre, set in the midst of the beautiful Peak District, in the company of other Unitarians, does give my soul room to breathe. Perhaps we should rename it 'Hucklow Holy Days'.

Of course, there are theme talks to attend, and the all-important two hours a day in your engagement group, but the rest of the activities are optional, and there are many opportunities to give your soul room to stretch and breathe and rest. I would recommend it to all Unitarians.

Asking for Directions

For the first time since I started this project, I find myself disagreeing with the quote of the week, by Paul Watzlawick. "Wer zu sich selbst finden will, darf andere nicht nach dem Weg fragen"

Which means: If you want to find yourself, do not ask others for directions.

Yes, I understand that every person is unique and each must find their own path on the spiritual journey.

BUT, and it is a very big but, I strongly believe that we all need support along the way. Which is why being a member of a spiritual / religious community is vital. It is possible to learn a lot by reading or searching the internet, but if we do not have other people to bounce our ideas and conclusions off, we might be led up the garden path by our own imperfect understanding.

I agree that asking others for directions may be a mistake, if we rely on those directions alone, and do not have our own thoughts and ideas. But for me, the spiritual journey is a combination of individual thought and sharing in community.

Which is why I find spiritual direction (which is really a misnomer) so valuable. If you have a spiritual director (which I have for the past seven years) they will accompany you on your journey, listening with full attention to what you have to say, and discerning the movement of the Spirit in your life. They do not direct, they do not judge, they accompany and suggest. Without my spiritual director, I would have been lost, would never have found myself, would never have had the courage for the journey.

I commend being in direction to all spiritual seekers.