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.