A Chain Begins with Two Links

 This week's quote reads, "I would now be ready for a chain of happy circumstances."

 

And I thought, o-kay... what does that mean? It is a statement of hope for a happy future, but surely there is more to it than that? Then it struck me: a chain begins with two links. If there is only one link, it is not a chain, it is a loop. Going nowhere. So perhaps in order to be happy, in order to experience "happy circumstances" we need to open our single loop and make connections with other people, get involved in the world around us. 

Which takes vulnerability, trust and courage. When we look around our world and see so much senseless hatred (witness the dreadful attack on the Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester yesterday - my heart goes out to all the people involved, suffering for the idiocy of the Israeli government) our instinct can be to hunker down, draw up the drawbridge and hide. It takes courage to stand up and protest, to reach out with compassion. As my own faith community, the Unitarians, have done. Yesterday, when news of the attack began to spread, the following statement appeared on Facebook:

"We are shocked and saddened by today's attack at Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester. We know that this will be felt deeply by Manchester's Jewish community, their families and their wider communities, particularly on the holy day of Yom Kippur.

We stand for peace and oppose violence in all its forms.

An attack on any place of worship is an attack on all who value freedom of faith and conscience. Places of worship should be sanctuaries; safe spaces for reflection, community and spiritual life. As Unitarians, we are committed to interfaith solidarity and to building communities where people of all faiths and none can live without fear. That commitment matters most in moments like this.

Rev Cody Coyne, minister of Cross Street Unitarian Chapel, Manchester City Centre, and President of the Manchester District Association, said: 'It can feel so much like hate is winning; but I think how each act is met with people running in to care for the victims, give solace to the bereaved, and in some cases placing their lives on the line for the sake of others. For each person committed to violence there is an overwhelming chorus calling us to act for peace and support.'"

This is how chains of connection are built - by standing up for what we know is right and refusing to allow hate to win. Every time we stand up for love and oppose mindless hate, a new link is forged.

Keep Your Head Up!

 This week's quote reads, "Keep your head up! Otherwise, you won't be able to see the stars."

It is a good reminder. There are many reasons why people walk around with their heads down, unaware of what is going on around them. Perhaps we are "in our head", preoccupied with our thoughts; perhaps we keep our eyes down to avoid meeting the eyes of anyone else we encounter; or (worst of all, in my view) we are so engrossed in our mobile phone screen that we are oblivious to the real world. 

Maybe I'm getting old, but it never ceases to astonish me when I see people walking around buried in their phones. They are missing out on so much - real life, going on around them.

Holding our heads up can also be a sign of self-worth. We are not afraid to meet the eyes of other people, are comfortable in our own skin. Which is a vulnerable act, and takes courage. Because I also appreciate that for many people, who do not, for one reason or another (like skin colour, sexuality, neurodiversity) "fit in" with the majority, flying under the radar is important for their safety; meeting the eyes of the dominant majority can be potentially dangerous. I hope there are places where they feel secure enough to raise their heads and be with their community and watch the stars.

But the most important reason to keep our heads up, in my opinion, is exactly what the quote states: "otherwise you won't be able to see the stars". Or the rest of the wonders of the world, all around us. My DH and I have recently spent a week in West Sussex (based near Chichester) and spent our time sight-seeing. We saw much to wonder at - the glories of Chichester Cathedral (see below), the different period buildings at the Weald and Downland Museum, Arundel Castle, and the beauty of the South Downs. None of which we would have been able to appreciate, had we not been looking around us, keenly aware of our surroundings. 

The Shape of Grief

I found the image below on Facebook the other day, and it fits my mood perfectly, as it is coming up to one year since my darling Mum died. "Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was deep love."

I miss her so much. Miss being able to share silly, little, everyday things - the latest doings of our grandsons, progress with a crochet or stitching project, shopping for my daughter's wedding dress, how I'm feeling, any particular day. The number of times in the last twelve months I have thought, "I must tell Mum that," and then remembered, again, that I can't. That she is gone.

I cannot wish her back. She was nearly 93, and had commented numerous times in the last couple of years of her life, "I'm ready to go." I hope she is at peace, wherever she is (she was a sound atheist and believed that death was the end of all things). 

It's a weird process, grieving for someone you have loved deeply. At first, it is all consuming, and you think you'll never get over it. You cannot believe that they are really gone, that you will never be able to talk to them, hold them, love them, ever again. Then, time passes, and time heals, and you regain something of an even keel, even though one sweet core of your life is gone forever. But then, something reminds you, and the loss is raw and wild once again. Or that is what I have found. 

And yet, the love remains. I am who I am - mother, grandmother, friend, minister - because she loved me well. And that is what I miss most of all - her unconditional love. She had boundless love and compassion for others, especially her family. And was friendly with everyone she met. She had a knack of striking up conversations with strangers, which I have inherited, a bit. And every time I do, I think of her.

Bless you, Mum. I love you. 

World of Wonders

This week's quote reads, "The world is full of wonders. One of them is me."

Which is a nice thought. But I wonder, how many of us believe it? I certainly do not see myself as a "wonder of the world".  I am a flawed, imperfect human being, just like everyone else. My first reaction to this quote was to think that the only people who do see themselves as "wonders of the world" are misguided and egocentric, even narcissistic. A certain orange President comes to mind...

But on reflection, I'm not sure I'm right. Perhaps there is another way to look at it, to think of ourselves. Perhaps it is about accepting ourselves as we are, flaws and all, and being grateful and in awe about the body, mind, and spirit that is ours alone. Each of us is unique, each of us has a very particular contribution to make to the world, that nobody else can make. 

I have blogged before about the importance of this, here. And am unapologetic about repeating part of that post, Brené Brown's definition of authenticity:

"Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we are supposed to be and embracing who we are. Choosing authenticity means:

 - cultivating the courage to be imperfect, to set boundaries, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable.

 - exercising the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle.

 - nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we believe that we are enough."

Perhaps it's not so much about being a "wonder of the world", it's more about showing up as our faulty and fallible selves, recognising those flaws and failings and, nevertheless, doing what we can, where we are, with the gifts we have been given, to make a positive difference in the world. Which means living in consonance with our values and daring to take a stand on the things which matter to us, regardless of whether it will make us unpopular, get us into trouble.

So yes, each and every one of us can be a "wonder of the world"; "unique, precious, a child of God" (to quote the Quakers; and can do our best to make a difference, using the talents which are ours alone.

May it be so - all our talents are needed, in this flawed and imperfect (yet also wonderful) world of ours.

Enjoying the Present

This week's quote took my breath away, with its logical simplicity: "Those who enjoy the present will have a wonderful past in the future."

And yet, living by it would be a profound spiritual practice, which could take the rest of my life. I have long believed that the present moment is the key to our happiness; that being fully present in it, through sacred living, paying attention in the present moment and perceiving the sacred everywhere, is so rewarding. It means noticing everything around us, appreciating everything around us, and not wasting our time regretting the past (which we can never change, no matter how much we mope about it), neither wishing we were back in the "good old days" (which never existed outside our faulty memories), nor longing to an idealised, impossible future. I have blogged about this here. 

I truly believe that "today", the present moment, is the only place at which time touches eternity. So it is up to us to attempt to be truly present in each passing moment, whether it is subjectively "good" or "bad". If we can master this trick of being present, I believe that our reward is that we will be much happier in the good bits, and more able to endure the bad bits, because we know they will not last forever.

When I look back at my own life, from the perspective of being 65, there are (of course) parts which did not go well, that I choose not to dwell upon. I guess I have been lucky, because when I look back, I feel very blessed - most of my past has been "wonderful". Part of that is the rose-coloured spectacles through which I view it, I'm sure, but part is also that I have striven, all my life, to enjoy the present, as much as I can. Which is why my autobiography has the title, Saying 'Yes' to Life.

For example, I'm sitting at my desk now, writing this blogpost, and if I raise my eyes to the window, I see the tree in the back garden, highlighted by the morning sun, which is my daily companion as I write. Today, its first leaves are beginning to turn brown, but it is mostly still lush and green. And it is silhouetted against a lovely blue sky with fluffy white clouds - such a nice change from the rain of yesterday. And I am (again) filled with awe and wonder at the sheer beauty in front of my eyes.

Self Acceptance

This week's quote is simple to read, yet hard to interpret. It says, "The most beautiful thing about me is me."

Because it can be interpreted in different ways. One negative way is to be so full of yourself that you believe you are the most important person in the world / your community and that everyone else should do as you say and believe what you believe. I am sure we can all think of a particular American politician who fulfils this brief to the hilt. And of all the negative effects that his narcissism is having on both the States and the wider world.

But most of us do not believe this of ourselves. Most of us have huge chunks of self-doubt, self-loathing to contend with. And so, when we get up in the morning, we put on the Mask, as a shield between our vulnerable selves and the world. As an attempt to fit in, to be accepted by others. And only take it off last thing at night, before sleep. And in between, we spend far too much time on social media, comparing ourselves disparagingly to others. This is also an unhealthy state of being, and a very unhappy way of living.

True self-acceptance is only possible after a lot of hard shadow work, undertaken over a long period of time. To be able to say (and truly mean) "the most beautiful thing about me is me" involves accepting all of ourselves, not only the bits we're proud of, but the small, mean, difficult bits, which we try so hard to hide from other people. There will always be parts of us we are unhappy with, but we have to somehow learn to love them anyway. Which means recognising our flaws, digging deep, finding their positive side (because there is a positive side to all of them) and then integrating them into our deepest selves. And recognising that we will never be perfect, that no-one is, and that is all right.

There are many self-help books, many processes we might follow to do this, including therapy and spiritual direction. In my own case, Debbie Ford's The Dark Side of the Light Chasers, Brené Brown's The Gifts of Imperfection and Daring Greatly, and Richard Rohr's Discovering the Enneagram were the most influential, plus (crucially in my case) being held so that I could do the work, by an empathic spiritual director. But whatever works for you is fine.

Every one of us is of is "unique, precious, a child of God" to quote the Quakers. And infinitely worth of being treated with dignity and respect, including by ourselves.

Footprints in the Sands of Time

The 19th century poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote, in A Psalm of Life, "Lives of great men all remind us /  we can make our lives sublime, / and departing, leave behind us / footprints on the sands of time." The 20th century American motivational speaker, Bob Moawad, coined a pithy variation on this: "You can't make footprints in the sands of time if you're sitting on your butt."

In other words, if we want to make a difference in the world, we need to get up and do something. There is no use sitting back and expecting other people to solve the problems of the world - we each need to do what we can, where we are, with the talents we have. Which may not be much, but to pinch a well-known supermarket's slogan, "Every little helps."

Yet it has to be considered action. It's no good just leaping up from our seats, rushing off, and doing the first thing which occurs to us. Or simply throwing money at a problem and hoping it will go away. No, we need to think hard and consult with others to find the best long-term solution to whatever the problem is.

Which may indeed involve "sitting on your butt" in meetings, and coming to a considered consensus. But then, it is time for action. It is no good agreeing to take action to make the world a better place, if we then drag our feet and wait for someone else to make the first move. The climate change crisis is a good example of this in action. The Paris Agreement in 2016 was excellent, in its way, but its  implementation has been slow, patchy, and inadequate.

Which is where individual activism comes in - those individual footprints on the sands of time which happen when ordinary people come together and work towards a better world, whether that is by protesting, or by making their own commitments to change the situation through their own actions. "Sitting on your butt" simply won't cut it, not any longer. If we want our children and grandchildren to inherit a sustainable planet, we need to act now.