Living Your Dream

 This week's quote reads, "Do not dream your life, live your dream."

I believe there is room for both. It is good to have hopes and dreams about a better world, a better life, for ourselves and others. But it's also important to translate those dreams and hopes into action, to put them into practice.

Life is a process of becoming, evolving - we never actually get there, wherever "there" is. There is always more to do, more to learn, more to discover, more to experience, more to get excited about. But many of us fall into the trap of thinking, "If only I could do / achieve / be X, Y or Z, then I'll be happy, then I'll be content."

I believe there is an important difference between setting your sail to the future and looking forward to getting there, and having some idea of how might that happen, and ignoring all the joys of our present lives in favour of dreams about a yet-to-be perfect life, which will never, ever materialise. Living in the future in this way is such a waste of our lives, of our emotional energy. And it doesn't make us happy. So why do we do it?

Living in the present is living your dream. Deeply experiencing all the passing instances of awe and wonder and joy (as well as grief and sadness, anger and loss) is living your dream. The Transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau, who famously went to live in the woods for a while to deeply experience life, has a lot to say about this; as he explains, "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."

He also wrote, "What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us." and "You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment."

Yet he also comes down firmly on the side of "live your dream", advising us, "If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them."

So yes, dream your dreams - we all need something to work towards; but then put the foundations under them. For me, this is finding the right balance between dreaming your life and living your dream. 

The Sound of Rain

 This week's quote reads, "When you close your eyes, the rain sounds like applause."

And I really had to think about the sound of rain - it has been so long since we have had any. Which is worrying. I've just checked the weather app on my phone and there is apparently a 75% chance of rain tomorrow where I live, and I'm so glad. It's nearly the end of May, and unless we have some good solid downpours, the crops in the fields around the village are not going to grow as they should. The weather has been beautifully sunny, and I've thoroughly enjoyed feeling the sun on my skin when I've been out and about, but we urgently Need Some Rain.

According to a recent article in The Guardian, "It has been the driest start to spring in 69 years. England saw its driest March since 1961 and in April the country received just half its normal rainfall. Farmers have had to start irrigating crops earlier, and reservoir levels are either notably or exceptionally low across the north-east and north-west of England." 

The article also explained that some crops are already failing and "livestock yields could also be at risk; grazing is not yet short, but farmers point out that fields will need a decent amount of rain to get animals through the summer." The deputy President of the National Farmers Union warned, "The extreme weather patterns we have experienced over the past few years are impacting our ability to feed the nation."

The water companies seem to be sadly underprepared for this calamity and are said to be simply trying to prevent too many leaks and praying for rain.

In The Climate Book, compiled by climate change activist Greta Thunberg in 2022, hydroclimatologist Peter H. Gleick explains the central role of water in our lives. He writes, "Water connects us to everything on the planet: our food and health, the well-being of the environment around us, the production of good and services, and our sense of community. And water is central to the climate - the entire hydrologic cycle of evaporation, precipitation, run-off and all the stocks and flows of water around the world lie at the heart of our climate system." 

He suggests that we need to "re-think" our relationship with water, following a "soft path... moving away from sole reliance on hard, centralized infrastructure like dams, aqueducts and large water treatment plants to a more integrated reliance on treatment and re-use of water, better capture and use of stormwater, smaller-scale distributed water systems, and, when economically and environmentally appropriate, the desalinisation of brackish or ocean water. It also calls for us to reconsider how we use water and to maximize the benefits water provides while minimizing the amount of water and energy we use."

As individuals, we can do some things: not waste water by leaving taps running; shift from taking baths to taking showers; not using hosepipes to water the plants in our gardens (if we are lucky enough to have gardens); and change to a plant-based diet (or at least, reduce the amount of meat we eat). But it is when we join together with others that we have the power to change the climate-unfriendly systems in place around the world. As Unitarians we can become members of Unitarians for Climate Justice, and join them in climate-friendly actions. They explain, "Many of us now see the Climate Crisis as the greatest threat facing the world and its beautiful, diverse community of living beings. As Unitarians, we know the struggle for a sustainable future for life on earth cannot be separated from the struggle for global justice and our belief in the inherent equality and worth of all human beings irrespective of wealth, country, race, religion, sexuality or gender identity." (from U4CJ Facebook page)

We can also join pressure groups such as Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth, and follow their advice about how to live more sustainably.

Maybe then, rain could sound like applause...

Should We Ever Admit Defeat?

 This week's quote reads, "You are only defeated when you admit defeat."

And my first reaction was, 'Hell, yes. Fight to the bitter end.' But then I thought some more, and realised that this is only true for the things which really matter - values, the defence of loved ones, important stuff... We should never admit defeat in our striving for a better world, for everyone, not only people but all the other inhabitants of our imperilled blue-green planet. We should continue to fight for equality, for peace, for an end to poverty and hunger and pollution and war. We should never admit defeat. 

But often, we carry on fighting, carry on trying, to achieve things which don't really matter - the ideal weight, popularity, the perfect anything. Because perfection is not attainable, at least, not in this world. And we are wasting our finite resources of time and energy and motivation if we set our teeth and keep on fighting to reach these unattainable goals. And beating ourselves up in consequence, when we fail. Again.

I honestly believe that is is better to settle for "good enough" in many cases. To do our best, but then be content. Which will sometimes mean coming to terms with unwelcome truths (for example, in my case, you will never weigh the same as you did in your twenties) and instead moving the goal posts, so that you have a new and achievable aim, which can be met without killing yourself. So in this particular example, my new 'win', my new victory, is to eat healthily, do sufficient exercise to keep my body fit, and stop comparing myself with anyone else. Because my body is absolutely good enough, and deserves cosseting and caring for, rather than depriving and shaming.

It can be hard to step back from the fight, to realise that perfection is not attainable, and, most importantly, that it very often Doesn't Matter. That we would be so much happier, so much more content, if we appreciated our small victories and stopped shooting for the moon.

I'm not saying we should not aim high - of course we should. But we should not beat ourselves up if we do not attain perfection. Another example: it was the annual competition of my local writing group yesterday afternoon, and each of us read our stories aloud, which were then marked out of ten by everyone else. Then, at the end, the numbers were collated, and the three winners announced. I was a little disappointed not to be placed, but happy that the three stories I had judged "best" came first, second, and third.

On the way home, I consciously told myself that it was okay not to have won; that I had written the best story I could, I had turned up and taken part, and that was enough. I admitted defeat, let it go. And am much more content in consequence.

The Gift of Laughter

 This week's quotation is very well-known. It says, "Laughter is music for the soul."

I believe that is so true. Laughter can uplift us and contribute to a general sense of well-being. It can bring us out of sadness or despondency and be a source of joy and connection.

Children seem to laugh far more easily than adults do... I rarely have a good belly laugh these days. But it happened yesterday. I am staying with a very dear friend for some R&R, and we were playing a game of canasta. Normally, we are fairly evenly matched and it is a [very amicable, yet intensely competitive] fight to the finish. But this particular game, *every* hand of mine was brilliant and *every* hand of hers was lousy - she actually had negative scores twice! We ended up weeping with laughter and it felt so good.

Why do adults laugh less than children? It takes very little to bring forth laughter in any of my grandsons, but although I smile often, feel grateful often, I laugh rarely. And the same applies to most of the adults of my acquaintance. Is it that we are bowed down under our responsibilities, less able to live in the now and appreciate the funny moments which come our way? I think it might be. Most of the "humour" I see on Facebook seems to be satirical, rather than simply amusing (except for the cat videos). Maybe that's just my personal feed, and yours is full of genuine laugh out loud posts. I hope so.

Yes, life is serious. Yes, we all have responsibilities. But, I think it would be so good for us (certainly good for me) if we were able to let go of it all (at least, temporarily) and simply laugh. I believe our souls would thank us for it.

The Little Miracles

This week's quote advises us, "Don't wait for the big miracle, otherwise you'll miss the many small ones."

Such wise advice. Sometimes we can get fixated on a particular desired outcome and pour all our energies into making it happen (or worse, sit around, passively wishing for it to happen). And while we are concentrating on that (whatever it is) we miss all the "fragments of holiness, glimpses of eternity" (thank you, Sarah York) along the way. 

I have more than one daily spiritual practice. And for me, the most important one happens at the end of each day. I call it "Small Pleasures". In my journal, I record three good things that have happened to me since I woke up that morning. It doesn't matter how small or insignificant they are - a meal or a television programme I have enjoyed, some writing I have done, something beautiful in nature, a conversation with a friend or family member -  what matters is that I have noticed and recorded them. And appreciated how lucky I am to have had them in my life, for that moment on that day.

I got the idea from Clare Law, whose blog, Three Beautiful Things, I have followed ever since she began it, way back in 2004. (She stopped in 2014, and I was bereft. I was so delighted when she began again during the first lockdown). She writes so beautifully about the most mundane, everyday things, which turn into magic under her skilful fingers.

I also appreciate that this can be very hard to do when we are in pain, or grief. Last month, when I had shingles, and the pain was quite intense, I had to really rack my brains to think of those small pleasures - like the support of my District, good advice from a friend who had recently suffered from it, some flowers sent to cheer me up, and so on. I am convinced that my established practice of trying to find something to be grateful for, helped.