And... Breathe

For many of us, it is the middle of the annual meetings season, and there is a fair chance we are beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by the size of the to-do list. This is certainly true of me. Our District AGM is on 22nd March, and I am District Secretary, so am in charge of organising it. And the GA meetings are only five weeks away, for which I have several bits of paperwork to prepare - for the Peace Fellowship's AGM, and for a URG debate on the use of Artificial Intelligence in Unitarian worship.

And the rest of my life is pretty busy as well - there's always a service to be written and delivered; people to visit; research to do; family matters; domestic stuff - the list goes on. At times like this, when I am feeling overwhelmed by life, it helps to remember the words of Laird Hamilton: "Make sure your worst enemy is not living between your ears."

That little voice, which whispers, "It's all too much. You can't do it. There isn't enough time. You are responsible if anything goes wrong." A whole litany of negativity, nagging away at my equilibrium.

At times like this, I have found that there is only one remedy. I breathe - simply breathe. "Each breath in a breath of life, each breath out a breath of love" as my first spiritual director taught me. And as I breathe, I imagine a beautiful landscape - green hills and blue sky, like the image above, or a calm sea, like the image below. 

Or, better yet, take my anxieties out for a walk in the woods. I am blessed to live near Salcey Forest, which is a peaceful retreat in all seasons. But even if you live in the centre of a large city, there are always green spaces in which you can walk, beautiful things to notice, which can ground and re-centre you. And... breathe.

Start the Day Well

 This week's quote reads, "If you start the day with a laugh, you've already won it."

A nice thought, and I'm sure it does make a difference, if you can do it. But there is not always something to laugh about. I have a very particular morning routine, which I've followed for a good long while, which works for me. I've blogged about it here. Sitting in silence, walking in nature, and writing are the key elements of my own start to the day. I know how lucky I am to be able to organise my morning to suit myself (and of course, I can't, always, like on a Tuesday, when I have to be out of the house at 7.30 am to look after my grandson). But on the days I can, it sets me up for the day. 

Of course, it suits me, but will probably (okay, almost definitely) not work for you, because you are not a Unitarian minister and writer in your mid-sixties with my particular interests....

Nevertheless, I would argue that having *some* kind of routine is beneficial, if only for self-care and self-nourishment purposes. All of us have some habits - things we do automatically without thinking about them. However, we need to make conscious choices about these habits, so that we drop the ones which are not nourishing us, and make a stringent effort to cultivate those which are nourishing us. Easier said than done....

I first became aware of the power of habits when I read Gretchen Rubin's book, Better than Before, and her follow-up book, The Four Tendencies, which I have blogged about here. Again, it's horses for courses, and my regimented, disciplined start to the day may not suit you, but it works for me. And it's more reliable than finding something to laugh at!

Which habits help you to ease yourself into the day? I would advise you to think about it, work out what is important to you, then try to implement a routine.... your body, mind and soul will love you for it.

The Best Things in Life are Invisible

This week's quote reads, "The best things in life are invisible, so we close our eyes when we kiss, laugh, and dream."

Hmm. Not sure I agree with that one. Or at least, not with the examples they give. It's that little word "so". If they had said "because", I would agree. Because kissing and laughing and dreaming are some of the best things in life and, by and large, we do close our eyes when we do them.

BUT "so" argues a conscious choice, rather than a physical reflex. And I sometimes have my eyes open when I kiss one of my grandsons, my children, my partner, or a dear friend, on the cheek. Perhaps the author of the quote was talking about a full on kiss, lips to lips. 

I generally laugh with my eyes open too... because what I am usually laughing at is in front of them - a funny programme on the TV, for example. And when I daydream, my eyes are open, but unfocused.

I guess I'm being ridiculously literalist and nitpicky here. I suppose it comes with being a writer - words matter. Because, looked at another way, the best things in life are invisible - love, mercy, grace, faith, beauty, goodness, kindness to others, to name but a few. We can see them in action, feel the impact they have on us, but cannot see the qualities themselves. 

Embracing Life

 This week's quote advises us to "Live your life with arms wide open!"

Which sounds both attractive and vulnerable, both at the same time. Small children live this way, because they do not have any negative experiences to close them back up. But soon enough, sadly, most of us will experience unkindness, or worse, from other people, and will begin to armour up to protect ourselves. Why would we choose to live with our arms wide open, if it means getting hurt?

To which the answer is, it is important to take the risk, if we want to live authentically. We have to be brave enough to take off the masks which protect us and show our true selves to the world. The mask of competence, the mask of "Everything's fine", the mask of "I can make it alone", the mask of "I don't need anything (or anyone)."

This is something I have only learned in the past 15 years. Until then, I had spent most of my life hiding behind those masks, because the thought of sharing my needs for empathy, companionship and help was terrifying. But taking that step, opening my arms wide, choosing to show my vulnerable self to the world, has been a vital one on the journey towards my true self, my life in God. Slowly, slowly, I have learned to peep out from behind my mask, and to trust other people with my vulnerability. I'm doing it now, by sharing this with you.... My journey is by no means over yet, but recognising that behind that mask is my true self helps me to continue to be brave enough to be vulnerable. To trust.

Part of the journey has been about reclaiming a childlike trust in life. For me, being childlike means being open and vulnerable, trusting and curious, rather than closed down, armoured up, mistrustful and cynical. It is a courageous way to live because it means that we are more vulnerable to being hurt by others. And when we have been hurt in the past (and who hasn't?) it may be difficult for us to trust others again, to trust that the universe is not (all appearances to the contrary, sometimes) "out to get us". 

I have come to understand that faith and trust are facets of our deepest nature. But as life goes on, and we encounter betrayal in our lives - as we surely will - that faith and trust can be eroded. It can take a lifetime to choose to be sufficiently vulnerable to dare to trust again. To open our arms again. These betrayals, which sadly seem to be an inevitable part of life, need not be great ones which bring our whole world crashing down around us. Any time someone lies to us, even a white lie, or doesn't turn up when they said they would, or is unkind to us, we can feel betrayed. Once we feel that way, it can take a lot of time to build up sufficient faith to make the world seem trustable again. It can even shake our faith in the essential goodness of humankind.

Living authentically, embracing life, is about saying "Yes" rather than "No". I love the Quaker Advice which I first came across in my late twenties: "Live adventurously. When choices arise, do you take the way that offers the fullest opportunity for the use of your gifts in the service of God and the community? Let your life speak." 

"Let your life speak." Yes. I have rarely regretted following it, even if it does often make me feel vulnerable. I would far rather dare and fail, live with my arms wide open, than not dare at all.

          

          

Reach for the Stars

 This week's quote read, "Take time to dream - it is the way to the stars."

Now, call me pedantic and literal, but it takes a lot more than dreaming to reach the stars. It also takes a lot of hard work: time, effort and dedication. Having a dream, as Martin Luther King Jr did, can inspire us and the people around us to put in the effort and dedication required to reach the goal, but will not by itself make a difference.

Throughout human history, the stars have symbolised something high, out of human reach, unattainable, except perhaps by a very special few. And yet, the yearning to explore our world, the solar system, even the stars, seems to lie deep within us. Since the earliest records began, there have been stories of treks and voyages into the unknown - the desire to discover what is over the horizon, out of sight, is very strong.

And in the last century or so, as more and more of planet Earth has been explored, documented, charted, rather than remaining "terra incognita", this curiosity has extended to the skies around our planet. Science fiction writers and film makers have dreamed about what life out among the stars might be like, and we have been treated to fabulous filmic interpretations  - the planets, the people, the alien creatures. And who knows how much programmes, films and books such as Star Trek, Star Wars, Dune, Out of the Silent Planet, and The Expanse have influenced the dreams of people, who have gone on to dedicate their lives to the space programme...

My other lingering doubt about reaching the stars is to wonder whether the huge amounts of money and time and expertise might have been better spent on feeding the hungry, healing the sick, saving our planet from the ravages of time and humankind... Maybe our dreams need to start small - dreaming of a better world around us, in our country, our neighbourhood, our community, our family....

Hope Renewed

The American poet John Vance Cheney once wrote, "The soul would have no rainbow, had the eyes no tears."

Which is a lovely reminder, on this grey January day, that hope does come in the morning. In Chapter 9 of Genesis, God promises Noah to care for the earth and everything in it, and sets a rainbow in the sky as a reminder of that promise. "I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature."

Ever since, the rainbow has been a symbol of hope. I know there is a scientific explanation. The Met Office website explains: "Rainbows are formed when light from the sun is scattered by water droplets... through a process called refraction. Refraction occurs when the light from the sun changes direction when passing through a medium denser than air, such as a raindrop. Once the refracted light enters the raindrop, it is reflected off the back and then refracted again as it exits and travels to our eyes."

But for me, and I guess for many of us, the rainbow is a thing of beauty, a wonderful natural phenomenon that lifts the spirits. 

Cheney's point is that without the raindrops, the tears, we wouldn't be able to experience the rainbow. If there was no contrast, no sadness in our lives, we wouldn't be able to appreciate the wonderful, happy times. If all our experiences had the same emotional impact on us, we would have no sense of sadness and grief, but also no sense of light and joy. 

Human beings are wonderfully complex, usually able to experience a whole range of emotions. When we are sad, grief-stricken, angry, we might wish this was otherwise. And on the other hand, it can feel very vulnerable, to allow ourselves to feel unalloyed joy, because we know that it cannot last. But honestly, I do believe it is worth it, such peak experiences can stay with us forever, reminding us to hope in less happy times.

Happy is Better than Perfect

 This week's quote reads, "I don't want a perfect life. I want a happy life." Me too.

I mean... don't we all? Yet life is messy, chaotic, unpredictable, and we cannot dictate how it will turn out. The one thing we can predict with some certainty is that it will not be perfect. No-one's life is perfect. And so the important thing to realise is that settling for "good enough" will ensure that in the long run, we are far happier than we would be if we were constantly yearning for the "perfect" life.

Perfection is illusive. And elusive. Perfectionism is also what Brené Brown calls "the twenty ton shield" as we struggle for it without ever attaining it. I have blogged about this here. 

I think that the surest path to a happy life is to be content with less-than-perfect. To appreciate the small joys of our daily lives and notice them as they happen. Even when we feel overwhelmed and stressed, it is possible to find small moments of happiness in our day to day lives, if we are sufficiently awake and aware. I try to go for a walk most days and it never fails to lift my spirits to be outside in the natural world. There is always something new and beautiful to notice, even on the greyest day. And when I have finished my day's work, and settle down in my armchair to do some stitching or crochet, I try to remember to notice how lucky I am to have a warm home, enough money, and crafts which absorb me.

I am grateful for my happy life. It is not perfect, but it is absolutely good enough. And so, I am happy.