Snowdrops of Hope: Journeying from Winter to Spring

I’m going to begin with a re-telling of a classic tale by Aesop. This version approaches the story from an entirely different angle, offering an alternative perspective. It is the story of “The Hare and the Tortoise”

Is it tortus or tore toys? I think it was Lewis Carol who said “It was the tortus that taught us”

“The Hare and the Tortoise”

Once upon a time there was a hare and a tortoise. The hare liked to run and jump and roll in the flowers. The tortoise stuck to the ground looking always to the front, never to the left, never to the right.

One day the tortoise began to argue with the hare.

"You have no direction. You are aimless. You are wasting your life," the tortoise said. The hare chewed on a dandelion to see what it was like.

"Whereas I on the other claw," the tortoise continued, "have purpose. I have drive. I have ambition." The hare began doing backward somersaults.

"And I can prove it!" the tortoise shouted, getting angry. "We will race through the wood to the river. The first one onto the bridge is the winner!"

And so that's how the race began. All the other animals gathered to watch and the crow, who was a bird and could fly, agreed to be the invigilator. When all was ready the squirrel opened a nut as a starting signal.

"Crack!" The race was on! The hare was into the wood in a couple of bounds. The tortoise moved slowly forward looking always to the front, never to the left, never to the right.

The hare ran halfway through the wood. Then the hare stopped to watch a cobweb dancing in a patch of sunlight. The sound of music drifted by on the breeze. The hare hopped off to investigate. The hare loved music. Music always reminded the hare of food. The hare began looking for some baby grass shoots to nibble. The tortoise continued, always looking to the front, never to the left, never to the right.

The hare found an old, hollow log covered in toadstools. It made a great hide away and for a while the hare hid in it imagining the fox was outside. After that it felt good to jump and stretch, stretch and jump, and jump some more.

The tortoise plodded on looking straight ahead. To the left there was a wild raspberry bush so heavy with fruit that its top was brushing the ground. To the right a fledgling fell from its nest to lie helpless caught in some undergrowth. The tortoise noticed neither.

After the jumping and stretching the hare felt hot and thirsty. So the hare ran to the river and had a drink. Then finding a shady spot the hare settled down for a nap.

The tortoise left the wood and neared the bridge, looking never to the left and never to the right. The tortoise reached the bridge, looking never to the left and never to the right. The hare woke up. The tortoise crawled onto the bridge, triumphant. The crow reported to the animals at the starting line that the tortoise had won. Some of them cheered and then they all went about their business.

When it got dark and there was no one to see the hare climbed up carefully from under the bridge and went home. The moon was very beautiful.

Now while it is certainly is true that the tortoise won the race...which one truly experienced the journey? Sometimes it’s nice to turn truth upside down and to look at things from an entirely different angle.

I went for a walk with a friend and our dogs down to Dunham Massey on Monday. There were a few obstacles thrown in our way, that seemed to be blocking us, but we got there in the end. It was much needed; it was lovely to walk and talk side by side. It is one of my great pleasures to saunter with another, talking and listening and sharing the natural beauty, just being alive to everything. We grew up in the same part of the world and at the same time, so there were many things to share. We talked about our lives, as well as our own spiritual journey’s. There was much laughter too. It was lovely and we passed many folk along the way. It was also interesting to see the two dogs personalities at play. Molly always curious and into discovering new things, Holly, my friends dog, not really moving from her side. We were deep in conversation when suddenly in front of us was an unexpected sight. There was a couple with what turned out to be six white ferrets. Molly was fascinated and wanted to have a good sniff and look, she did not bark, she was just curious. Thankfully neither of them were “Ferret-legging”, not something that you would expect to see in Cheshire, only in Yorkshire. We talked with them for a while and then journeyed on. We sauntered on round and round. It was just what I needed, I think we both needed it, before returning to our respective lives.

I love to journey with others, you never know what will open up to you in a day. I have found the key is not so much where you go, but how you journey and of course with who. Remembering of course journey means what you do, or where you travel in one day. It is derived from the Latin word "diarnum" meaning daily portion from which the old French word "jornee" which meant a day’s work or a day's travel, is derived. I love this truth, it makes me smile broadly. We all live one day at a time, this is the beautiful journey of life; beautiful but sometimes heartbreakingly painful. You just don’t know what you are stepping into when you journey out each day. Monday was a beautiful journey. As I reflected that evening I was taken on many journey’s throughout my life; I was connected and reconnected to many days and many folk I have journeyed with throughout my life. It connected my present to the past and filled my heart with loving hope of the journeys I will wander on in the future. It brought, faith, hope and above all love alive in me, the three that call me out each day.

Monday was of course 3rd February, which is a special day on the Calendar. Do you know what special day it was? Well Monday was “Elmo’s” Day. Elmo is a wonderfully and loving character from Sesame Street, we should all be more like Elmo. Elmo is probably best know for the following little aphorism: “Elmo thinks it’s important to be kind because if you’re kind to somebody, then they’ll be kind to somebody, and it goes on and on and on.”

Surely this is how each of us ought journey on with one another. Might sound a bit radical in this day an age, well so be it. Be kind, be loving, be respectful, acknowledge the Divine within each and every person you meet, all life that you greet. In so doing you will make life a beautiful journey. What are you going to do with the day?

Last weekend was Imbolc, St Brigid’s Day, Candlemass and of course Groundhog Day. This is considered the beginning of Spring. I have certainly been seeing many snowdrops, particularly around the great trees. I love how these tiny, delicate little flowers stand out at the base of these enormous trees. We have journeyed through another winter, or so it seems. The Groundhog it seems disagrees. Sadly. bad news on the Punxsutawney Phil front, the groundhog, he saw his shadow. This means, according to the tradition, six more weeks of winter. So, winter might be a little longer this year.

Despite this as we walked round Dunham, it felt like Spring was in the air and those snowdrops were beautiful silver buds of hope. The snow drops are everywhere. The snowdrop is considered a symbol of hope. Legend has it that they appeared as such after Adam and Eve were expelled from Eden. Eve was about to give up hope that the winter would never end, but an angel appeared and transformed some snowflakes into the flower the snowdrop, showing that the winter will eventually come to an end. The flower is linked to the purification associated with “Candlemass” as the old rhyme goes:

“The Snowdrop, in purest white array, first rears her head in “Candlemass” day.

End of winter or not, we get to journey. We journey on together and we journey on in hope. I have certainly felt, faith, hope and above all love in my heart, despite some of the troubles of life, being heavy on my heart.

I was part of a wonderful celebration of 50 years of recovery taking place in the small schoolroom at the chapel. It brought to my mind so many lives I have journeyed with these past few years. It brought to my heart thoughts of those who came before me and those who will journey on day by day. So much faith and hope and above all love.

There are times when we have to trudge as we journey, when we have to hanker down, but we must not do so facing the ground. The word trudge originally meant to walk in snow shoes, it is a word of Scandinavian origin, it depicts labour and a faith and hope and love to keep on going, this is needed in the winter months of course. We do not need to do so with our heads to the ground. We can also saunter, a word of disputed origin, with a both a joyful and an image that depicts a holy journey. Some say that travellers to the holy land were on a saunter, who knows. The key is to journey, but to do so taking in all of life, to do so joyfully, in wonderful company, taking in all of life. You will be amazed by what you see.

Remember to journey is what we do in a day. Sometimes the biggest mistake we make is that we continue journeying on, head down, not looking all around us, too focused on a perceived goal. This is due I am sure to the fear that if we don’t keep on moving, we might get lost or that our troubles might catch up with us. I do not believe that this is healthy. In many ways by just marching on ever forward we can become completely lost, in the sense that we lose who we are at the core of ourselves, that sense of belonging here in life, as we are, wanted, needed and loved.

These thoughts bring to mind the beautiful poem “Lost” by David Wagoner.

“Lost”

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

by David Wagoner

It is so vital to pause to take in the life we lead to enjoy this life. To be the hare and not the tortoise.

No one is ever truly lost, provided you maintain a faith in life and love.

It matters what sustains us, what holds us through life, what calls us out to journey on. What daily bread we take. The reason the rich young man could not follow Jesus was that his faith, his love was in finite things. A repeated message of the Gospels is that you cannot serve two masters. Sometimes our master is of course some perceived goal, some place we feel we must get to, so much so that we don’t get to experience all that is life, we fail to live by love and eventually lose all faith and hope, this is no way to live.

Throughout our journeys’ we pass through many stages of our lives and looking back no doubt we can see these staging posts. I was reflecting on this after my walk with my friend on Monday. I was reliving so many staging posts and so many folk I have both sauntered and trudged side by side with, as I have journeyed on. It has filled my heart with love all week long.

We folk wandering around the parks are no different to those characters from the ancient stories and their many great examples of the different types of journeys, pilgrimages and Odyssey’s that we may undertake. In his meditation “The Spiritual Journey” David O Rankin names a few who have walked courageously through theirs. Stating:

“It is Moses leading the Jews through the desert of Sinai, and Jesus enduring the temptation in the wilderness of Israel, and Buddha seeking enlightenment along the dusty roads of India.

It is the glorious voyage of Odysseus in Homer’s Odyssey, the narrow paths through the circles of hell in Dante’s Inferno, and the confessions of the travellers in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.

It is the pilgrims sailing on the Mayflower, the settlers moving westward, being On the Road with Jack Kerouac, and spinning through a black hole in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey”

We are all of us pilgrims on the sacred journey that is life and like so many of the more famous ones we think we have to go someplace else to discover our own Nirvana or to build the New Jerusalem. Just as the pilgrims on the Mayflower did in the seventeenth century. They believed that they had to travel a great distance to a new land to create their heaven on earth. They were focused on some perceived destination. I have discovered that this is not necessary. In fact in so doing you may just fail to experience the gift that is this life. You do not have to travel great distances to experience the beautiful journey and you do not need to travel great distances to build the New Jerusalem, it must be here, in our own hearts or nowhere. The “Kin-dom” of Love has to be built here or nowhere.

I suspect it’s the same about finding ourselves once again when we feel lost. Just be here, you are not lost. Look around and look within you and listen to that voice within and that of those you journey with. Don’t walk on, head down, look up at life all around you, be awake. Look for the light that shines bright, that spark of the Divine that is within everything. That which awakens the sense of my senses, and enables us to journey on. That which allows us to feel at home wherever our feet are planted. That Kin-dom of Love, within me, within each of us and within everything.

Let love be our navigator it will always lead us home, to the place where we belong.

Enjoy the gift that is the beautiful journey, where ever it may lead.

Enjoy the journey, it is the gift, this day.

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

Living by and through Blessing: The Sacred Dash

“A Baptism” by Robert R Walsh

She called to ask if I would baptize her infant son.

I said, "What we do is like a baptism, but not exactly. And we normally do it only for people who are part of the church family. The next one we have scheduled is in May."

She said, "Could we come to talk with you about it anyway?"

They came to see me, the very young woman and her child and the child's very young father. She explained that the child had been born with a heart defect. He had to have a risky heart operation soon. She had asked the clergyman of her own church if he would baptize her son, and he had refused because she was not married to the baby’s father.

I told them that their not being married would not be an impediment to anything we might do, but that our child dedication ceremony still might not be what they were looking for.

I explained that our ceremony does not wash away any sin, it does not guarantee the child a place in heaven, it doesn't even make the child a member of the church.

In fact, I said, it doesn't change the child at all. What we expect is that it will change the rest of us in our relationship with the child, and with all children.

She listened patiently. When I was through she said, "All I want is to know that God blesses my baby."

In my mind I gasped at the sudden clarity in the room. I said, with a catch in my throat, "I think I can do that." And I did.

Every week I record my address on YouTube and post it for whoever wants to hear. I have been doing so ever since the lockdown in 2020. I also create a "blogpost", which I have been doing since 2011. The YouTube post used to be a bit convoluted, more of a complete devotion. I still call it a devotion, although I have simplified it over time. I do continue to end with words of “blessing” or at least that is what I call them. I say something like, “I am going to end with some words of blessing, you know we need to bless more, we can all bless, we bless when we give ourselves wholeheartedly to life.” I then offer some words of blessing of my own, that change each week, before ending with words I end each Sunday service with “…and may we do so in all that we feel, all that we think, all that we say and all that we do.” When I think of my ministry and what it means, what is at the heart of it, it could well be described as a kind of theology of blessing. Something we need so much of right now, when everything seems to be getting louder and louder and ever more aggressive. When we look at one another do we see someone made of the same flesh and born of the same spirit; do we recognize that we are born from the same “Original Blessing”. When God saw his creation in Gensis 1, God saw that it was good, each aspect, was blessed and on the sixth day was seen as very good. Now, of course this is not literal, this is metaphor, mythos, but at its heart is this concept of blessing and goodness and the purpose being to become a blessing to life, a creator not a destroyer.

To live by blessing is at the heart of my faith. Not always easy and I fall short every day, including at times failing to see myself as someone born from goodness, with the capacity to live in and by blessing.

I have been thinking about this quite a lot recently, particularly in relation to “Rites of Passage”, for I see blessing as being at the heart of it all, from beginning to end.

Last Monday evening I met with Peter Williams to discuss and plan his mother Margaret’s memorial service. Peter will write and deliver the main eulogy, Barbara will share some personal memories and then we decided to include a little ritual where those in attendance will be invited to come forward, light a candle and share their memories of Margaret. Peter wanted the community to share their memories, as he put it, he wanted folk to share their memories of mum, that it wasn’t about him, or anyone person, but about everyone; that we shared the memories of her life and how we were blessed by it. A eulogy after all is a piece that praises someone. I thought it was a lovely way to remember the blessings shared and a blessing to all.

On Tuesday I conducted the funeral of Marjorie Harrison, she had lived just beyond 100 years. An incredible life and one in which she had beaten the odds so many times, having survived Tuberculosis, Hepatitis, cancer and a severe stroke 26 years previously. As I delivered her eulogy I felt powerfully how many lives Margery had blessed. There many, but one special way, was the gift of holidays to Great Hucklow, something she shared with her whole family and whenever they are there they will feel powerfully that blessing. A blessing that will live for many years to come.

I recently met with a young person and their mother. The young person is thirteen years old. They contacted me to ask if we could create a ceremony where they could commit themselves to life in a new way and whilst doing so receive the support from God parents. They do not have a particular belief system that they follow, they are someone who would be categorized as “None” on the census, but not an atheist, the term often used is “spiritual, not religious”. I listened and asked questions and then explained my concept of “Blessing” to them, they listened with interest. I described what I would do in a ceremony with a child and how we could develop that. We all walked away with ideas buzzing around in our minds and souls, I look forward to creating something and sharing the blessing in the summer.

When I conduct such ceremonies with children, what some call Christenings, or Baptisms, or welcoming and naming ceremonies, I simply call them “Blessings”, I use water, but not to wash away sin, our tradition rejected this concept long ago. I do not believe that any child is born into this world carrying any baggage; I cannot and will not accept that. Instead, what I do is celebrate and bless the life of the child. I touch their brow, their lips and their hands to bless their thoughts, their words and their deeds and ask for promises to be made by the family and God parents to offer guidance, to help them do good, so as to be a blessing to the world. I would think that both Margaret and Margery who were lifelong Unitarians would have had a similar ceremony when they were infants.

My whole theology, my belief is of blessing, that we are here to live our lives as a blessing, that the dash between our dates of birth and death should be about blessing, both giving and receiving as much as possible. By the way this is not something I have made up myself, there is a long and rich history to it.

In “Original Blessing”, Matthew Fox claims that blessing runs like a thread through the whole creation story. He says “ ‘Original Blessing’ underlies all being, all creation, all time, all space, all unfolding and evolving of what is.” And quotes Rabbi Herschell who said “Just to be is a blessing, just to live is holy”

He does not claim that humanity is incapable of wrong doing, even evil. Quite the opposite, as history has shown. As the present shows. Of course there is human frailty and obvious limitations. There is no denial of sin, just a rejection of “Original Sin”. What he is saying is that this brokenness can never outweigh the many gifts that we do have to offer and that life has to offer us. That we can live a life of blessing and thus be blessed by life.

He says that:

“A theology of blessing is a theology about a different kind of power. Not the power of control or the power of being over or under, but the power of fertility. Blessing is fertility to the people of Israel and to the Native American and other pre-patriarchal religions.”

These teachings are close to the earth, to the cosmos. They are linked to Jesus’s teachings expressed in the Beatitudes “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness; blessed are the peace makers...” There is nothing new in the teachings he is simply saying that we share our blessings by giving of ourselves to others, by being a bright spot in people lives. It is an active, living, breathing way. It is “Love’s Way”.

Or as I say we need to bless more, we can all bless, we bless by giving ourselves wholeheartedly to life…In all that we feel, all that we think, all that we say and all that we do.

As I was driving back from Margery’s funeral, I was reflecting on some of the people who have blessed my life. I was also a little caught up in some serious concerns, that were weighing heavily on my heart. The type that keep me too much in myself. I took Molly out for a walk. She had been really good as I left her maybe five or six hours, which is too long. She was pleased to see me, but was calm about it. As we headed out I said hello to a few folk I met in town, the staff in Café Nero waved and smiled at us as we walked on by and we went to park where Molly ran free, what a blessing and utter joy it was watch her so happy, so free.

As she played with a little dog she has played with since they were both puppies, Molly is just two weeks older, I was reminded of a beautiful piece of wisdom from Forrest Church’s masterpiece “Love and Death: My Journey Through the Valley of the Shadow”, written while he was dying of esophageal cancer. He asked, "knowing that we will die, what should we do?" To which he answered, "we should live, we should laugh, and we should love." He then recalled a lesson he learnt from his children, about living. One day, when they were young, he was walking them to school, on a busy New York street. Suddenly a car swerved round a corner and almost killed them all. Forrest was incensed by this, but he remembers, "my kids just laughed, romping blithely down the sidewalk, jumping from tree to tree as they always did, trying to touch the leaves." The kids were celebrating, nay singing the joy of living, and they "had the right idea. Why didn't I think to jump and touch the leaves?"

This is surely a tale of blessing. Forrest believed that it was living, loving and laughing that took real courage, they required heart, while dying didn’t really take much courage at all, in his eyes that just came naturally. Something he was experiencing as he wrote these words. Words that have been such a blessing to my ministry.

Now to really live Forrest suggested a simple little mantra:" Want what you have. Do what you can. Be who you are." He didn’t suggest that this would be easy but it is the only way to live and in so doing we will live in such a way that our lives will prove worth dying for by the love we leave behind.

Perhaps somewhere in that little mantra is an answer as to how we live by and through blessing. It is to want the things that make up our lives and not wish for something else and in so doing we might just begin to be who we truly are, instead of wishing we were someone else. In so doing we can do the things that we are able to do and thus bring deep meaning to the little bit of the dash that we are living right now. In so doing we will bless life, and it will bless us in return.

This is the gift of life, the beautiful gift of being alive in this ordinary moment, a moment that can become deep and meaningful, not only for ourselves but for those we get to share our lives with. This is blessing, this is live by and through blessing. For we never know how long we’ve got left how close we are to the end of the line, the last part of dash. Nore, do we know how close those we love are to the end of theirs. How much time we have left to bless and be blessed.

Peter has requested a poem to be read at Margaret’s memorial service. He said he decided on it when he was reading the names of the wall of “The Garden of Remembrance” at Dunham Road, how it states their names and their dates of both birth and death, but nothing of their lives. He made a powerful point. It says nothing of how they blessed and how they were a blessing, that is for those who live on to know and hopefully share. I thought that what peter shared with me was a blessing in its self.

So with this in mind, I am going to end this morning with the poem, which I have shared before, “The Dash” by Linda Ellis

“The Dash” by Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak at a funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on the tombstone from the beginning…to the end.

He noted that first came the date of birth and spoke of the following date with tears but said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time they spent alive on earth and now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own, the cars…the house…the cash. What matters is how we lived and loved and how we spend our dash.

So, think about this long and hard; are there things you’d like to change? For you never know how much time is left that still can be rearranged.

To be less quick to anger and show appreciation more and love the people in our lives like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile…remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read, with your life’s actions to rehash, would you be proud of the things they say about how you lived your dash?

Amen

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"

May We Be Awake to the Beautiful Encounters, in The Storms of Life

“The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Like many folk I can feel overwhelmed, by the troubles of the world and the troubles of others, those around me, as well as the frustrations with myself, from time to time. When the storms of life are blowing, whether internally or externally, there isa temptation to batten down the hatches. I don’t just mean the winter storms like, Eowyn, but those that can rise up within us, or the horrific barbarity that we can witnessed by our barbarity to one another. I can feel tempted to hibernate and isolate too.

Yes it is healthy to take time alone, infact it is vital, but isolation is never so. Thankfully this feeling never lasts and I find solace and meaning in so many places, this enables me to turn back to world and offer what love and care and bit of cheeky humour I can. In so doing meaning emerges from the suffering and despair is transcended. With apologies to Wendell Berry it is not only the “Peace of Wild Things” that enables me to rest in the Grace of the world and thus feel free. This does help at times, but not alone. What I have discovered, that works for me, is walking in the peace of beloved community, being with loving and decent people and to be both touched and moved by them. It constantly amazes me the people whose path I can cross in a day. So often these encounters turn into blessings seemingly Divine.

I was talking with a friend the other day as our dogs played together. They had had a rough 2024, but it seems that things are on the up for them this year. It was lovely to listen to them with such enthusiasm about the things they are creating and the folk they are meeting. As I left their company I felt held by the grace of the world. I am grateful that I had answered the invitation to go walk our dogs in the park.

Do you ever feel led by a “Power Greater” than yourself? I do, I was the other day. I had decided that Molly and I needed to go to the park. Not John Leigh, but Stamford, which meant walking through Altrincham. There was a break in the weather. Unfortunately it didn’t last long and instead of walking on to the park, Molly directed me into Café Nero. She is only a little dog, but sometimes she is definitely a power greater than myself. She was right by the way. It was what we both needed. I enjoyed a tea and three people came in separately that I know. We chatted about a few things, some serious, some less so, some humourous. I found myself resting in the grace of the world and I once again felt free. It is how I am meant to be.

I have had several fascinating random encounters with people in recent days. They have all come after I have had an encounter that was difficult or troubling, the blessings and curses of “Choosing Life”. After each difficult and troubling encounter, I found myself suddenly changing direction and found myself almost immediately engaged in something delightful or at least humourous. I won’t talk about the delightful ones, but I will tell you about the hilarious one. I was walking through Altrincham when suddenly I heard a loud banging from a window above. I looked up and a head popped out, they cried “Get your hair cut, get your hair cut, get your bleeding hair cut”. Well Molly and I did get our hair cut, although that was already planned for this week. By the way the person shouting at me was someone I knew, not a random stranger. The last week or so has been full of fascinating encounters. I wonder where they might lead.

Life is full of encounters, opportunities and interactions. There are many opportunities that could lead us in all kinds of directions. We never know when we set out each day what the opportunities we face may just lead too.

I wonder how often in life such seeming coincidences occur, how many opportunities or chance encounters come our way, how many doors open that could lead to something incredible and new. I wonder if these opportunities come just once or do they keep on coming again and again in one form or another. I’m not sure if I am honest, although I do know that when I’m truly tuned in they do seem to occur far more often than when I am not. I wonder how many times we have this feeling that we need to do something or go somewhere. I wonder how often we ignore it and how often we answer it’s call. I wonder how many times we have that feeling and ignore it, rationalise it out and turn away from it, only to find the universe present it to us once again. Or perhaps it is all just random chance, just chaos bumping into each other. Who knows for certain? Certainly not I.

We all wander through life, primarily living by the same daily, perhaps weekly patterns. The seasons change but we live by a similar pattern and rhythm and yet as we do so life changes, we change, others change and we have these interesting interactions from time to time. I wonder sometimes if such encounters, however brief, are constantly available to us. How many people do we pass in life and never speak or truly interact with and yet we never know what the interaction might lead to.

Here's a "romantic poem", although I suspect it is making a deeper theological suggestion...

"Love at First Sight" by Wislawa Szymborska

They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.

Since they'd never met before, they're sure
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the streets,
staircases, hallways —
perhaps they've passed by each other a
million times?

I want to ask them
if they don't remember —
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver? —
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.
They'd be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.

Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.

There were signs and signals,
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps, three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?

There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another
beforehand.
Suitcases, checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.

Every beginning
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.

In “Love at first sight” by Wislawa Szymborska, describes two lovers engaged in a display of public affection. I get the impression that the author is convinced that some guiding force is at work in their interaction. What begins as “Chance”, then becomes “Destiny” which “pushed them close, drove them apart”. The poems suggests that these lives were scripted long ago in a “book of events”, which cannot be altered, try as we might. The poem suggests that the lovers have passed by one another many times before, but were never aware or ready to make that first point of contact. That there were signs along the way and that one day this encounter would happen, but it was more than mere chance, something else was at work offering itself to both of them. It just took this moment for it to happen.

In many ways this is how I see life these days. So many possibilities are going on all around us. Some good, others not so good. So many joys, tragedies, triumphs, failures, frustrations, crises, endless possibilities good and bad. Life offers itself to us, but so often we close ourselves off from it. One thing I have noticed is that as I have allowed life itself to guide me I have become more open I am to life itself and the more connected I felt, the more aware I have become of experiencing meaning and making meaning filled decisions. As I have done so I experienced a greater sense of belonging to myself, those people I share my life with and this world in which we all live and breathe and share our being. It doesn’t stop tragedy and suffering, of course not, it does not protect anyone from the storms of life, it does though keep me turning toward life.

The more I have lived this way the more I have noticed the meaningful coincidences in life. Some say this is how it is meant to be, I am not wholly convinced of this, I prefer to see it as this how it could be if I allow myself to follow the rhythm of life. If I do I notice the so-called coincidences, the synchronicities of life. Not always of course. I like a lot of people I get overwhelmed at times. My sensitivity can be an utter curse and lead me to turn away from life once more. Thankfully this never lasts long. I cannot close the ears of my heart to life for long.

I do believe that life speaks to us, if we are in tune enough to hear it, it speaks in so many ways too. Some say it is the hand of God directing everything, others say it is just pure chance and others call it synchronicity. I am one of those who call it synchronicity. I also refer to it as the “Lure of Divine Love”.

Personally, I do not hold with the view of a God who controls all our interaction, that life is preordained if you like. When I look at our capacity for inhumanity towards one another, I find that impossible to believe. Neither do I hold a deistic understanding, that a Creator started the processes of life but then left life to get on with it. Nor am I an atheist or even agnostic, I sense that there is a Divine presence in life. I have come to believe in the Divine Lure of Love. That the Divine lures life on, that we are co-creators, with all of life in a universal process. I sense this divine presence within me and I experience it in life itself, particularly in creativity or in deeply felt interactions. I have discovered that when I am awake to such things, in life, I experience synchronicity constantly. Life seems to direct me, when I am awake to it. This of course can be deeply painful. Living this way is both a blessing and curse. That said I have found that it is the only way that I can live. There are times though when it all feels too much, I know I am not alone in this.

Now please don’t get me wrong I am not suggesting that I live purely by instinct, by intuition, from my gut. How on earth can I. Intuition alone is not enough, discernment is vital in order to make wise decisions about life.

The word discernment is formed from the Latin word “discernere”, which means to separate, to distinguish, to sort out. Just think of prospectors panning for gold or sifting through the rocks and dirt in search of gem stones. They are separating, they are sorting through the muck for the jewels, they are distinguishing, they are discerning.

Discernment is the key to making wise decisions about life, about what our senses are saying to us. We need to discover what is of value and what needs to be discarded as our minds interpret our senses. We need to discard the dirt and muck to uncover the gold, the gems, to have clarity of thought, so that we can truly follow that Divine spark within each of us. This is not easy, especially when we think of all that information that swims around in our lives and our consciousness; information like an enormous shoal of fish swimming round and round aimlessly in a small tank and not really going anywhere. Our lives, our hearts, our heads are just so full of stuff, our senses are constantly overloaded. I know that mine are, although you might not notice it. How do we discern what is the right response? Well, we need silence; we need time away from all this information and all these things that pull us in so many directions. We need to still our senses from time to time and thus tune into the source of all life. We need time to be still, time to be silent, time to connect to our bodies and our breathing; time to hear that still small voice of calm. A voice less than a whisper, but somehow more than silence.

We need to awaken to our true consciousness in order to make those sane and sensible decisions about life. We need to learn to separate those things that are of value and those that are not. We need to do this in order to hear that voice, that is less than whisper but that is somehow more than silence; that voice that has spoken down the centuries, to those who had ears that could hear it.

The choices we make matter. It matters what we are and what we do. I do not think that God chooses this for us. Yes, God offers guidance, “The Lure of Divine Love” but it is up to us to choose the path that we follow. WE are the creators and destroyers of this our shared world.

So, pay attention my friends. Take time to tune into your deeper selves and the deeper pulse of life, pay attention, trust your own heart but please discern, make wise choices about what life offers to you, for what you do and do not do really matters.

May you have interesting and beautiful encounters and may you trust them enough that you allow them to lead you to ever more beautiful lives.

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"

Real Care is Not Ambiguous: The Loaves and Fishes are Not Dead

“Real care is not ambiguous” thus said Henri Nouwen and yet the word itself can suggest a certain amount of ambiguity. When someone says they will take care of something or someone it can sound almost threatening, there is certainly a sense of power over another in play, in phrase “I will take care of it, or I will take care of them.” This is not real care. Real care is about relationship; real care is about empathy; real care is about love. In this sense “real care is not ambiguous.”

I think one of the saddest and loneliest phrases, you will ever hear in the English language is, “I don’t care”. Who amongst us can say that they have never uttered them? If not out loud, so that others could hear them, at least inwardly to themselves. I’ve said it. I said it many years ago and later denied doing so. I said it though and regretted it immediately. It was at a moment in my life when I had sunk so far into the pain of my lost little self that I did not care anymore. I was in hell and the uttering of those words proved it at that moment in time.

Thankfully, although at times I do feel weariness towards aspects of life, it has been many years since I did not care; it has been many years since I experienced the pain and loneliness of indifference.

There’s another phrase along this theme, which I often hear spoken, “I don’t care what people think of me.” Now while I think I understand what people mean by this, that they are no longer ruled by the views of others, what matters is how they see themselves, there is something in this phrase that still bothers me. I never want to reach the point where I do not care at all what people think of me. I never want to, once again, experience indifference. While I am not ruled by the views of others, it matters to me what they believe. I care a lot.

As a child I was considered overly sensitive, that I felt too much and that I took things personally. While it was thought of as a likeable quality, I know it was seen as a serious handicap too. I remember my stepfather telling me I needed to toughen up and he certainly tried to in ways that were not healthy. All this really led to was me closing part of my humanity down. This did lead to a sense of indifference at some later stages of my life which led to some horrific feelings of loneliness, isolation and disconnection. Thankfully I eventually saw the truth of this and through love I began to connect and care again. This seeming blight became an asset as I was able to care once more. It wasn’t so much that I lost the sensitivity, that I felt less, it was more that I recognised that these feelings were not about me. I took things less personally and it was this that allowed me to begin to serve, to minister.

To minister is to serve and to serve is to care. It is about connection it is about relationship it’s about bringing that loving space alive. I learnt this through the example given to me by John Midgley when he came and tried to be with both me and others during an horrific time in our lives. John couldn’t heal or change anything. He was as powerless as we were, but he was able to be with us in our shared powerlessness and somehow in this space the healing power held us together. An example I will never forget. It is something I have been thinking of again these last couple of years I have become more involved in helping to develop ministers.

To truly care is to connect, to relate, to be a part of something, it is not a power relationship, it is intimate and it is mutual. It is empathy. This is heaven, this is love, this is what it means to care. This is what it means to turn to as opposed to turn away despite the pain, fear and confusion. This is courage. To care takes courage, it comes from the heart, it is the heart alive and on fire. To not care is the way of the coward; to not care is a frozen state, indifference requires a frozen heart.

I have heard hell described in many ways, what it means to be living in a state of hell. I think the most accurate explanation of hell, is that it is indifference. It is a sense of disconnection from the feelings and concerns of others. Hell is indifference. To live in hell is to be indifferent to sufferings of others. Dante’s Inferno described it thus.

Extract from Dante Alighieri’s “The Divine Comedy” Inferno (Hell), Canto III

ARGUMENT.—Dante, following Virgil, comes to the gate of Hell; where, after having read the dreadful words that are written thereon, they both enter. Here, as he understands from Virgil, those were punished who had passed their time (for living it could not be called) in a state of apathy and indifference both to good and evil. Then, pursuing their way, they arrive at the river Acheron; and there find the old ferryman Charon, who takes the spirits over to the opposite shore; which, as soon as Dante reaches, he is seized with terror, and falls into a trance.

Hell is indifference. Hell is not fire but in actual fact a frozen state, a state where a person no longer cares and has grown cold towards, others, towards life itself.

Here’s a story depicting the difference between Heaven and Hell, from the Zen Buddhist Tradition. I have shared it before. It’s one of those stories you hear different versions of in many traditions.

Once upon a time, in a temple nestled in the misty end of south hill, lived a pair of monks. One old and one young.
“What are the differences between Heaven and Hell?” the young monk asked the learned master one day.
“There are no material differences,” replied the old monk peacefully.
“None at all?” asked the confused young monk.
“Yes. Both Heaven and Hell look the same. They all have a dining hall with a big hot pot in the centre in which some delicious noodles are boiled, giving off an appetising scent,” said our old priest. “The size of the pan and the number of people sitting around the pot are the same in these two places.”
“But oddly, each diner is given a pair of meter-long chopsticks and must use them to eat the noodles. And to eat the noodles, one must hold the chopsticks properly at their ends, no cheating is allowed,” the Zen master went on to describe to our young monk.
“In the case of Hell, people are always starved because no matter how hard they try, they fail to get the noodles into their mouths,” said the old priest.
“But isn't it the same happens to the people in Heaven?” the junior questioned.
“No. They can eat because they each feed the person sitting opposite them at the table. You see, that is the difference between Heaven and Hell,” explained the old monk.


In the story “Heaven and Hell” appear exactly the same and yet they are experienced oh so differently. In Hell all go hungry because everyone tries to feed themselves only, they are purely self-focused and fail to recognise the hunger in their neighbour sat opposite them. And yet in heaven they attempt to feed one another and are therefore fed in abundance. To me this is as much about the relationships as the food going into one another’s mouths. I believe that we all possess an innate need to serve one another that if we do not do this part of our natural humanity withers away and dies off. By not serving one another we starve our souls. Seems pretty clear, there is nothing ambiguous here. This is real care.

Henri Nouwen said “real care is NOT ambiguous”, he highlighted that the word “care” has its origin from the old English word “caru” meaning “sorrow, anxiety, grief” as well as "burdens of mind; serious mental attention," from the Proto-Germanic word “karo” meaning "lament; grief, care". To really care is to truly feel another’s sorrow to cry out with them and to truly be with them. To care is to truly empathies and not merely sympathies. To truly care is to be with another, it is about meeting another in common human relationship. This is why indifference, to not care, it is hell. This is because it is about breaking that sense of relationship, it is emptiness it is loneliness. It hurts to care, which is why so often we turn away. No one likes to feel powerless and to care is about recognizing our singular powerlessness at times. It’s also about recognising the healing power that can begin to grow from this powerless state, as the common grief is recognised and shared and the healing comes in that very space. This is the power of love. This is the miracle of healing that is recounted again and again in the Gospel accounts; it is the same love that comes alive once again when we recognise one another and truly care. We make heaven. We create the kin-dom, the one-ness of love, right here, right now. For heaven is a place where everything connects.

You see this clearly in the example of Jesus in the Gospel accounts. As Nouwen points out. As Jesus came out of his solitude, he reached out his caring hand to those in need. From his lonely place his care grew strong and from here he entered a healing closeness with his fellow humans. The key is the relationship. It wasn’t merely that he fed folk, or healed them. He did not do so alone, the power is in the relationship. Yes, he fed the people with the loaves and fishes, but only after first been given them by a stranger in the crowd. The Disciples then fed the people face to face. This is care, this is a deep loving relationship. Before returning the boy of Nain to his widowed mother, he first felt her sorrow. Lazarus was raised from the dead through the experience of distress, sorrow and tears. There is a deep connective relationship here, that brings life from death. It is not so much that folk are cured, by some kind of magic. This is not the key to these stories; no, the key is in the relationship. This is real care. It is solidarity in the suffering, participation in the pain. It is the shared experience of suffering; it is deep human connection. This is what it means to truly care. There is nothing ambiguous here. To really care is to truly feel another’s sorrow, to cry out with them and to truly be with them. To care is to truly empathies and not merely sympathies; to truly care is to be with another; to truly care is about meeting another in common human relationship; to truly care is to inhabit Heaven on earth. Where as to be indifferent is to live in a state of Hell. Heaven is connection and Hell is disconnection. It is heaven that is the warm place and hell that is frozen over.

Many people say they feel lonely, that they experience a sense of disconnection. This can become even stronger at this time of the year, early January. The weeks in the deepest part of winter following the Christmas festivities. These are cold, frozen days. Sometimes these frozen feelings are not caused by the temperature of the air, but by indifference and a sense of disconnection. We yearn to be warmed, we yearn to be fed.

Here is a wonderful  poem by David Whyte inspired by "Loaves and Fishes"

“Loaves and Fishes” by David Whyte

This is not
the age of information.

This is NOT
the age of information.

Forget the news,
and the radio,
and the blurred screen.

This is the time of loaves
and fishes.

People are hungry,
and one good word is bread
for a thousand.

“The loaves and fishes are not dead” it comes alive when we care, when we connect, when we empathise and sit with one another. It warms our hearts and souls.

Real care is not ambiguous. Hell is the frozen place; it is Heaven that is warm. We will begin to warm our own hearts and those we share this world with, in and through true care. It begins by recognising what we have in common. It comes in recognising our shared sense of powerlessness at times, for here is where the power comes alive, in this deep relationship of care.

It begins by reconnecting in and through care. Let’s not become frozen people, indifferent people, let us live in and through care. For in so doing we will bring warmth to our lives and those we share our lives we.

Let’s care a lot…

Here is a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

Super Ordinary Heroes: The Lives of Christopher Reeve and Victor Frankl

“When the first Superman movie came out I was frequently asked, "What is a hero?" My answer was that a hero is someone who commits a courageous action without considering the consequences...

...Now my definition is completely different. I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”

Christopher Reeve

I recently watched “Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story”. It was a powerful and moving documentary film about not only his life, but his family’s life also. Like a lot of young people, of my generation, Superman was the ultimate hero, and Christopher the archetype. I went to see all of the first three films at the pictures. Just like young people do today as they marvel at such features. Christopher Reeve seemed to be the perfect image of the “Superman”. He was the all American hero and a great success. He seemed to be well loved too by his contemporaries. He had a life long friendship with Robin Williams. He had lived something of a hedonistic lifestyle, living the good life and achieving much. Then tragedy struck and he became paralysed from his neck down after being thrown from his horse.

His chances of survival were slim. In fact he only survived due to a new surgery. He fell into despair and said to his wife Dana “Maybe we should just let me go”. Dana persuaded him to give himself two years and told him “But you are still you. And I love you.” He was still him, but he could no longer physically touch life. Despite all he had lost he still had had the love of his family, he also had fame and saw that he could create something powerful and useful from this. So, he decided use all he had to create something good. He and Dana set up the “Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation”.to help both other paraplegic people but also develop research to help people perhaps one day walk again, to heal spinal injuries.

Christopher Reeve realised that even though he could no longer use his body, he had a power that so many other people do not. He could use his fame. He could create something from this tragedy. He succeeded he created something incredible, as did his family. Sadly, he died suddenly in 2004 but his legacy lived on. A year later his wife Dana was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, sadly she died only a year or so after Christopher. This left their son Will without either parent. He and his older siblings Matthew and Alexandra, from a previous relationship, carried on the work of the foundation.

There is a moment towards the end of the film where Will speaks of the death of both of his parents and the potential to slip into despair. He, spoke of a decision, of a choice that he and perhaps all of us have to make. That you can look at the universe and look at life and say it is simply meaningless; or you can search out a meaning and create something from this. It struck me powerfully, in fact it filled me with tears.

I know that Christopher Reeve became a Unitarian towards the end of his life. He went on an inner journey following his accident and the open and free community helped him to do so. He was interviewed by “Readers Digest” not long before he died and he was asked why. He said "It gives me a moral compass. I often refer to Abe Lincoln, who said, 'When I do good, I feel good. When I do bad, I feel bad. And that is my religion.' I think we all have a little voice inside us that will guide us. It may be God, I don't know. But I think that if we shut out all the noise and clutter from our lives and listen to that voice, it will tell us the right thing to do."

As I watched this deeply moving film it obviously brought to my mind the “Hero’s Journey” that Joseph Campbell Identified. Chrsitopher Reeve and his family are a classic example of this. That said it spoke more powerfully to me of the work of Viktor Frankl. I thought this throughout and I felt it deeply as his son Will spoke of the decision he took after both of his parents had died. The choice was his to turn to meaningless despair or find meaning, to create something from this suffering and thus transform it into something meaningful. This the whole family has done. So many have benefited from this decision.

I also thought of Christopher Reeve’s inner journey. He was an athlete and a physical being. He enjoyed fame and fortune and all the trappings that go with it. He enjoyed all the pleasures that life has to offer. In the end he lost all of this, it was a chasing in the wind, to quote Ecclesiastes. He lost all that and had to go on an inner journey, into the spiritual realm. Again it brought to my mind the work of Viktor Frankl and what he described as “Religio” or the search for the “Unconscious God” and to bring this alive through our lives and thus create a life rich in meaning. I think it is clear that in so doing that Christopher Reeve truly found the hero inside himself. To repeat that quote of his:

“When the first Superman movie came out I was frequently asked, "What is a hero?" My answer was that a hero is someone who commits a courageous action without considering the consequences...

...Now my definition is completely different. I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”

Christopher Reeve reminded me of a quadriplegic man, from Texas, named Jerry Long, who Viktor Frankl often spoke of in his later interviews. Jerry Long had read “Man’s Search for Meaning”, whilst recuperating from an accident that had left him paralysed. It did not kill his spirit though. He wrote to Frankl and they formed a lifelong friendship. Frankl described Jerry as "a living testimony to logotherapy lived and the defiant power of the human spirit".

Jerry gained his doctorate in psychotherapy and became a renowned public speaker throughout the world. In 1998 he wrote a contribution to a journal issue commemorating the recently deceased Viktor Frankl. Here is a passage from it.:

"Once, after speaking to a large audience, I was asked if I ever felt sad because I could no longer walk. I replied, "Professor Frankl can hardly see, I cannot walk at all, and many of you can hardly cope with life. What is crucial to remember is this - We don't need just our eyes, just our legs, or just our minds. All we need are the wings of our souls and together we can fly." - Jerry L. Long

This is what Viktor Frankl was trying to show the world, through Logotherapy. He was trying to help us see this.

Now you may well ask Who is this Viktor Frankl and what is Logotherapy.

Viktor Frankl was the founder of what has often been referred to as the “Third Viennese School of Psychotherapy” Freud founded the first which was based on the central role of the libido or pleasure principle in human psychology. Alfred Adler founded the second which emphasised the importance of the will to power and the significance of the superiority/inferiority complex in human behaviour. In contrast to these two schools Frankl’s psychology is based on the will to meaning which he saw as the primary motivating force in human life. He named it “Logotherapy” taken from the Greek term logos, which means “word”, “reason”, or “meaning”. Think of the opening words from John’s Gospel, “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.” The word here of course is “Logos”. There is an implication here that meaning has a transcendent origin.

Frankl saw a spiritual dimension beyond the biological and psychological. He saw the suppression of this as the root cause of our human malady. Therefore, the task of “Logotherapy” was “to remind patients of their unconscious religiousness” and to uncover the spiritual dimensions of their lives and enable them to recover the capacity to choose those values which give our lives worth and meaning.

Now this meaning is of course different for everyone, as Frankl said himself:

“For the meaning of life differs from man to man, from day to day and from hour to hour. What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person’s life at a given moment.”

Frankl claimed that meaning is discovered through creative and worthwhile activities, by creating something beautiful or doing good – I believe that one of the greatest sadness’s of our age is the fact that the phrase “do-gooder” has become a term of mockery, that it is somehow seen as wrong and suspicious to do good - Meaning can be found through experiencing and sharing in the beauty of art or nature or through loving or ethical encounters with others. Now is the example of Christopher Reeve and his family, the embodiment of this.

Even in the most horrific and terrifyingly hopeless situations we still have the capacity to choose our attitude towards whatever circumstances we are faced with. It is our response to life’s events that shapes our souls. Remember Frankl developed his theory during the utter despair and horror of the Nazi death camps. As Frankl himself said “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”

There are those that say that life has no meaning, that nothing matters in life. I was once one of these people. These days I see no truth in such statements. These days I see meaning in everything, even in the most painful moments in life. In fact, it has usually been through coming through these most painful moments that the greatest meaning has emerged. Not immediately always but eventually as I have been able to give back to others from the experience of the suffering I have experienced and or witnessed. These last few months have proven this once again. By the way Frankl is in no way suggesting that this justifies suffering, please do not misunderstand. Frankl is not suggesting any such thing. To quote Dorothee Soelle, “no heaven can rectify an Auswitz”. Frankl was very clear that is suffering can be stopped then it must, and that can be done to stop the suffering must be applied. What I have discovered and Frankl taught was that despite the suffering that by living openly meaning can emerge. Meaning can emerge from living by the way of the Lure of Divine Love. Such love draws us out of ourselves and meaning emerges as we live from love and our most painful experiences are transfigured into meaning and purpose. The suffering is still as real, but meaning begins to emerge as we are saved from the hell of despair.

We can find our meaning, by uncovering whatever it is that makes us feel alive. I have witnessed it again in the lives of ordinary people recent weeks. I have experienced it too. Spiritually speaking, my heart has felt close to bursting at times recently. Not without pain, of course not, but even in that suffering meaning has emerged and I have experienced utter joy and bliss.

The key is to find our meaning, whatever makes our soul sing and bring it life through your very human being, bring to life that which is within you and all life. I am not here to tell you what the meaning of life is. I would be cautious of anyone who suggests that they have all the answers to such questions. What I can tell you though is that meaning can and will emerge from you, all you have to do is bring it to life. In so doing not only will your life be meaning filled but you will inspire others to do the same. Just as Viktor Frankl has been doing for generations and the story of Christopher Reeve and his family have too.

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away

I will begin with something from my favourite farmer poet, the wonderful Wendell Berry. The following is often seen as a poem about death and dying but really it is about generosity the most living giving of all virtues.

Sabbaths – 1993, I

No, no, there is no going back.
Less and less you are
that possibility you were.
More and more you have become
those lives and deaths
that have belonged to you.
You have become a sort of grave
containing much that was
and is no more in time, beloved
then, now, and always.
And you have become a sort of tree
standing over a grave.
Now more than ever you can be
generous toward each day
that comes, young, to disappear
forever, and yet remain
unaging in the mind.
Every day you have less reason
not to give yourself away.

“Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away.”

How was your Christmas and New Year. I had a lovely, quiet and restful couple of days on Christmas and Boxing Day. It was just what I needed as I was very tired, exhausted actually. I had given so much of late and had to face some difficult challenges over the last few months. I had though come through it with faith and integrity. I feel strengthen by this. I have felt so deeply loved and supported too, this has meant so much. I have been truly comforted, held with assurance, from both visible and invisible hands. I have seen myself and I have seen the world through fresher eyes, this is never easy. I have given a lot too. I felt deeply, I see more clearly how I am a deeply sensitive soul. This is not always easy. I have though lived with integrity, and I feel a deeper sense of connection and aliveness as a result of this.

I caught up with family after some time alone and saw most of the people I wanted to see. I would have liked to have seen one or two friends, but that just wasn’t possible. There will be other times. I did hear from a dear old friend on New Year’s Eve. He has been close to death and I plan to see him in the New Year.

It was lovely being with people who have known me all my life, there was a deeper love. They have their own troubles and we shared a little about that. One or two made comments about my life in recent months. It was said to me, in a variety of ways, be careful not to give yourself away too much. I smiled at this. It was said from a place of love, but not one of true understanding One of things I have a greater understanding of these last few months is that I am who I am and it is vital for me to live life my way and not try to be something I am not. I smiled to myself at this loving concern, but I suspect I will be giving myself away quite a bit these next twelve months. I am what I am.

“Don’t give yourself away too much” I was smiling about this as I drove through the fog on the M62. I am not sure exactly how to do that. I am who I am. One thing I have noticed about myself these last few months has been a deeper acceptance of who I am and the world in which I live and breath. Doesn’t mean I give the way things are my approval, more that I have a deeper acceptance that his is how it is. Delusion about reality is of no use to anyone. It is vital to live with an awakened eye.

I’ve been thinking of Wendell Berry’s poem “Sabbath’s”, once again these last few days. It is a New Year poem I reckon. It is the end of the poem that really gets into the heart of me. “Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away.”

I have learnt that if you truly want to know yourself, this is how you do it. This is how you will find yourself, how to know love, how your very being gets transformed and you become who you truly are, by giving yourself away. By pouring your heart out, you fill it with love and your mind and spirit know peace. This is the purpose of the religious of life of living in true intimate spiritual community. You cannot experience this if you practise your spirituality in isolation, something I have felt more deeply of late.

Religion gets a very bad name these days and rightly so, as for too long it has been about control and dogma, but that is not really its purpose, not in it truest sense. It is about giving yourself away and in so doing you actually not only find yourself, but become who you truly are.

This brings to mind a favourite quotation on the purpose of true religion, by Karen Armstrong:

“Religion is not about accepting twenty impossible propositions before breakfast, but about doing things that change you. It is a moral aesthetic, an ethical alchemy. If you behave in a certain way, you will be transformed.” When we dare to move beyond the known patterns and perceptions of our lives, letting the alchemy of love, listening and justice do its work, then we will be more than changed. The base metals of our lives will be transformed into something precious and flourishing. This is the purpose of religion, and the meaning of a religious life: to be transformed.”

These thoughts were passing through my being as I reflected on the recent weeks of my life and the people I have shared this time with. I see so many gorgeous examples of this transformation in them. Just beautiful!

Again as Wendell Berry wrote “Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away.”

This is about living generously. My word I have witnessed a lot this in the ordinary people I share my life with. I’m not talking about on the big global scale, I’m talking about the communities that intersect my life. When I look at the big picture, on the news screens, what I see is selfishness and greed and yet when I look at the people around me, what I witness is people being generous, people giving themselves away. It fills my heart.

As Parker J Palmer has pointed out generosity does not require material abundance. When I look at the people I have been around in recent weeks, what I have witnessed is generosity of spirit, generosity of time and generosity of heart. I’ve witnessed it every time I’ve been to visit in hospital as I have looked at the people all around me. I have witnessed people giving their time, their support, their open hearted presence, their hope even in the suffering of their loved ones. These are our gifts of the self. This is how we bring that divine love alive. This is the alchemy that transforms life. This is the heart of true religion. This is gratitude in action, this is living with gratitude, this is abundance, extravagance, this is God incarnating in out ordinary human lives. Sadly too often we are afraid to do this. In fact we are told over and over again “Don’t give yourself away.”

Why?

What are we so afraid of?

No! Times is passing by, it is short “Everyday day you have less reason not to give yourself away.”

It’s that simply really and yet at times it seems so complicated. This is the transformative nature of the religious life, the free religious life at least. It comes alive, as we come alive when we give ourselves away.

It brings to my mind another favourite poem that came back into my heart in those days between Christmas and New year, “Accepting this “ by Mark Nepo

“Accepting this “ by Mark Nepo

Yes, it is true. I confess,
I have thought great thoughts,
and sung great songs—all of it
rehearsal for the majesty
of being held.

The dream is awakened
when thinking I love you
and life begins
when saying I love you
and joy moves like blood
when embracing others with love.

My efforts now turn
from trying to outrun suffering
to accepting love wherever
I can find it.

Stripped of causes and plans
and things to strive for,
I have discovered everything
I could need or ask for
is right here—
in flawed abundance.

We cannot eliminate hunger,
but we can feed each other.

We cannot eliminate loneliness,
but we can hold each other.

We cannot eliminate pain,
but we can live a life
of compassion.

Ultimately,
we are small living things

awakened in the stream,
not gods who carve out rivers.

Like human fish,
we’re asked to experience
meaning in the life that moves
through the gill of our heart.

There is nothing to do
and nowhere to go.
Accepting this,
we can do everything
and go anywhere.

There are so many beautiful paradoxes in this poem; paradoxes that speak to me of what it means to live spiritually alive; spiritually alive and in the company of others. I have witnessed and experienced so much of what it speaks of these last few weeks, this has filled my heart and humbled me. I have borne witness to how the spirit only comes alive in relation. That’s what the spiritual life is actually about you know, relationships. You cannot be a spiritual being, a living one at least in isolation. It only occurs truly in community, as messy as that can be. The more we give ourselves away, the more all will receive, that strange arithmetic of giving, that multiplies by subtraction.

I’m going to end today with a confession. I hope you can forgive me. Life is an utter mystery to me. It just doesn’t make sense. I know my own life doesn’t, well not completely. I don’t understand it, I just can’t make sense of it. I am at ease with this. The other day I felt so free as I was out in the park walking with Molly, just chatting with the folk I meet. My head as completely empty and my heart was full and I felt this incredible sense of belonging and well-being and pure love. I felt powerfully the presence of God and every person I looked at that day seemed to me to be made in that image.

All I do know is that every day I have less reason not to give myself away.

Maybe that is all I really need to know, maybe all I have to do is keep on remembering this and keep on giving myself away. The next time I forget, please remind me.

“Every day I have less reason not to give myself away.

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"