Turn towards the sun, sideways into the light, not away from life

A good friend Rob planted a load of beautiful flowers in gardens at Dunham Road. Gardening is a new love for him; a love born from the grief of the loss of his father, who was an early Covid death. He had nurtured the seedlings and had so many that he was giving them away as gifts. He wanted some to come to the chapel, as it means so much to him. It is where his soul came back to life. He also wanted to thank me for helping him along the way, not least when his father died. He planted the flowers on the second anniversary of his father’s death back in the Spring.

He planted many sunflowers and some are now blooming. I was admiring them early the other morning and thinking of how they always turn towards the sun. How it is a source of everything to the sunflower. They need to turn towards the sun not only to survive, but to thrive. I don’t think I am that different myself, are any of us?

When I think of my friend and his flowers, particularly those sunflowers I see a love born from pain and suffering. The way his father died and the way so many others did and still do, in such tragic isolated ways, without the ability to grieve this love as they would have normally done so. My friend has created something beautiful from that suffering, something meaningful that he can share with others. I see pure joy born from the pain and rich meaning too. Thus, there is no despair, no empty shell, no lingering destructive resentment. Thinking of this turns my heart towards the sun, just like those sunflowers he so lovingly planted do.

I was thinking of this the other morning as I walked down and round to Dunham Massey. I had much weighing heavily on my heart that day, things are would rather not face. Not least the news that my cousin has only a few days to live. I was travelling to see my auntie and uncle that day. Cheryl is now home, where she is being cared for as her life comes to an end.

It was a beautiful sunlit morning in Dunham. I bumped into another friend and his wife, they were out running. I had never actually met her before. We had once spoken on the phone, when he was in his darkest hour, a few years earlier. So, it was lovely to actually meet her, in the sunshine. Things are very different for them now, thank God. There lives have certainly turned around, they turned towards the light and back to life.

As I wandered in the morning sun I was reminded of Mary Oliver’s poem “The Sun”.

Here it is

“The Sun” Mary Oliver

Have you ever seen

Anything

in your life

more wonderful

than the way the sun,

every evening,

relaxed and easy,

floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,

or the rumpled sea,

and is gone--

and how it slides again

out of the blackness,

every morning,

on the other side of the world,

like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,

say, on a morning in early summer,

at its perfect imperial distance--

and have you ever felt for anything

such wild love--

do you think there is anywhere, in any language,

a word billowing enough

for the pleasure

that fills you,

as the sun

reaches out,

as it warms you

as you stand there,

empty-handed--

or have you too

turned from this world--

or have you too

gone crazy

for power,

for things?

Mary had such a beautiful pastoral way about her. Her poems were very real and earthy, there are no bromides and yet there is a deep sense of love and care, and devotion to life, they are spiritual in every sense of the word. There is a sense of the sacred in anything and everything she described. She reminds me how vital it is to sanctify life and let life sanctify me, by simply being alive. Like my friend and his sunflowers. I feel so carried and cared for by Mary’s words in “The Sun” and yet brought to a halt by the final lines which asks if we have turned away from  the world or gone crazy with power for things. Both will be destructive, it matters how we live in this world and how the world lives in us, it really does. It matters how we turn in life, is it in love, towards the sun, or do we turn away from life or perhaps even worse get so crazy with power we try to destroy everything in our way.

As I continued my walk round Dunham I was reminded of another poem of Mary’s, I thought of my friend and his flowers as I remembered a few lines from “Morning Poem”: “Every morning the world is created under the orange sticks of the sun the heaped ashes of the night turn into leaves again and fasten themselves to the high branches…”

How important it is whenever the pain gets too overwhelming, when, to quote another line from the poem, that “heavier than lead” feeling comes, that we keep on turning back to life. That we do not let our ego control the lives of others. That instead we turn to life and play our role in everything. Afterall this is what life needs and in so doing meaning always emerges right there in the ashes of suffering.

Walking in nature brings solace to me, it is not the answer to the troubles both close at hand and in the wider world but my heart and soul needs it in order to return to whatever is my responsibility. In so doing joy is born deep in the heart, even in the very real suffering. The suffering is not transcended, it is transformed into meaning and love. Gosh have I known love this week.

On Tuesday after talking through some very difficult and painful experiences with someone another favourite poet came to my heart, this time as I watched dogs frolicking in the park. This time it was David Whyte and his poem “Tobar Phadraic”, again it is a poem about turning, only this time sideways into the light. Here it is:

TOBAR PHADRAIC

Turn sideways into the light as they say
the old ones did and disappear
into the originality of it all.

Be impatient with easy explanations
and teach that part of the mind
that wants to know everything
not to begin questions it cannot answer.

Walk the green road above the bay
and the low glinting fields
toward the evening sun, let that Atlantic
gleam be ahead of you and the gray light
of the bay below you, until you catch,
down on your left, the break in the wall,
for just above in the shadows
you’ll find it hidden, a curved arm
of rock holding the water close to the mountain,
a just-lit surface smoothing a scattering of coins,
and in the niche above, notes to the dead
and supplications for those who still live
.
But for now, you are alone with the transfiguration
and ask no healing for your own
but look down as if looking through time,
as if through a rent veil from the other
side of the question you’ve refused to ask.

And you remember now, that clear stream
of generosity from which you drank,
how as a child your arms could rise and your palms
turn out to take the blessing of the world.

I love the line, "Turn sideways into the light." It is just so beautiful . it comes from a Celtic myth about a tribe of people who went into battle knowing they would be defeated. They stood facing the enemy and as the enemy charged toward them, they turned sideways into the light and disappeared.

There is much more to the poem of course, but that is perhaps for another day.

“Turning sideways into the light” reminds of another way to face life and conflict; it reminds me that in war no one wins. Yes, one side may lose more, but no one wins. There is so much conflict in life and it grieves my heart. I was reminded of this last Monday and shared deeply about it on Tuesday. To “turn sideways into the light”, suggests another way, one that is relational, what Whyte would call conversational. You do not have to have the confrontational conversation that those who come towards you want. It is about turning down another path, not the one the antagonist wants you down. “Turning sideways into the light” is another way of saying Jesus’ teaching in Matthew ch3 v 38 “But I say to you, do not resist the evil doer…love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” “Turning sideways into the light” is like turning the other cheek. In so doing the hatred and aggression is transformed and disarmed. This takes courage and deep integrity. It is a shift of consciousness akin to Gandhi on the “Salt Marches.” In so doing suffering is transformed into meaning and love. It is a better way that recognises how sacred everything is, not least ourselves. It brings healing too.

So it matters which way we turn in life, it also matters how we turn. It matters what we do and how we do it. It matters whether we turn towards the world or sideways into the light, rather than grasping for power and creating conflict. It matters how and which way we turn. I prefer to be a sunflower always turning towards the light, the warmth of the sun. Rather than someone who charges towards life and others, head down causing destruction. In so doing it enables me to turn to life in a loving way.

It is a curious phrase to turn, or to turn again or even to return. Did you know that to turn or to re-turn was the original meaning of the religious word “conversion”. Conversion is rooted in the Latin word “convertere”, which meant to turn around to transform. Today I choose to turn towards the light and not away from life and in so doing whatever suffering is there begins to be transformed into love and meaning emerges, thus there is no despair. I have felt this powerfully all week, right down in the core of my being, it is why I have known such joy.

This brings back to my mind Victor Frankl and that wonderful and simple equation D=S-M

Despair equals suffering minus meaning...Despair is suffering without meaning.

In “Man’s Search For Meaning” Frankl wrote “Man is not destroyed by suffering; he is destroyed by suffering without meaning.” He discovered that if we have a “why” to live for we can endure anything. More than that actually it is this that allows us to thrive, to be all that we are born to be. To not only improve our lives, but to serve our world. In so doing, despite living with real suffering we can know joy, in even the tiniest of things, our hearts will seek it out, that is what hearts are for.

The question this raises though is how do we uncover meaning? Where do we find meaning in our lives? What about those who tell us that life is essentially meaningless? Is there one meaning? Is there one truth?

Now Frankl would suggest that it is for each of us to discover our own meaning in any given situation. That this is our task; that this meaning may not be in the given moment but in some place in the future; that it is to be found in some purpose or meaning yet to come.

What are the things that hold us and sustains when life seems too much?

Remember Frankl’s equation D = S-M. Despair is suffering without meaning. How do we find and develop meaning in our lives, in spite of the inevitable suffering that will always be present?

Well, that is up to each of us. I know my friend found it in those flowers he has been nurturing ever since his father died, sharing that love and beauty with others. I find it in simply being in life, but also in accompanying others in their grief and suffering, as well as refusing to play the game of destruction. I would much rather live authentically from love and turn sideways into the light.

So many ask why, when suffering occurs. I cannot answer that, at least not fully. All I can do is encourage folk to keep and turning towards the sun, or sideways into the light and walk side by side, to accompany each other. Maybe that is the answer, to not turn away from life, even when it really hurts and to keep on turning towards light and love and truth and in so doing meaning will emerge and the suffering will be transformed into love.

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To Offer Solace: To Receive Comfort

I wasn’t feeling my best last Monday morning, my mood was low. I was wondering what people would think of me, having learnt of the news of Sue and mine’s separation. I had spent a good week off, with friends and family. Trying to come to terms with things and myself. My own disappointments, mainly with myself and my failings. I was also feeling a sense of disgust and despair at the world in general. I think the reports of the trouble at the football game the night before and the vile racist abuse directed towards the young men who had missed the penalties was weighing heavily on my heart. Sue and myself messaged one another. She had been taking care of her spiritual needs that morning. She suggested that I needed to buy myself some flowers or a plant. I replied that I needed to seek solace today and that it sounded like a good idea.

I set off into Altrincham, to the supermarket and then the gym. I passed two friends I often see sitting outside Café Nero. One of them owns a beautiful chocolate Labrador. She is an old girl, but a lovely one, the dog I mean. As I passed, I didn’t see the dog and I had this horrible feeling in my stomach. There were other people talking to them, one with a dog, but as I passed, I couldn’t see the Labrador. Thankfully when I returned a little later, there she was. It is funny though that I didn’t see her the first time, it said something about the state of my mind and heart.

I went through my routine at the gym. It was quiet for a Monday morning. No doubt folk were nursing headaches from the night before. I got through my routine, but barely spoke to anyone. As I left my head was still down. Oddly this actually helped me on Monday, which is a rare thing indeed. I noticed something I wouldn’t normally see. It was sign right there written into the paving stone outside what used to be Rackhams. It read “Not So Secret Garden: A garden is a delight to the eye and a solace for the soul”. With arrows pointing upwards towards a recently created artificial garden, café and large area of outside seating and play area right in the middle of Altrincham high street. It lifted my head up and my spirits too. I then began to notice all kinds of beautiful and wonderful things that brought solace to my heart and soul. It helped me reconnect and I returned to begin my work, there was much to do after a week off.

Solace was on my mind and how important it is to discover in times of trouble and struggle. We all need help at times, both visible and invisible. I had a day filled with lovely encounters and conversations. Some beautiful messages either direct or passed on to me by members of the congregations. I cannot begin to tell you how it feels to be loved so deeply. So many offering support to both myself and Sue. It touched me deeply.

We all need solace, we all need comfort and consolation in times of distress. It is wonderful to be able to receive both visible and invisible help at such times. I had spent quite a bit of last week with family and friends. It was helpful. I also spent some time offering solace to an old friend from university days who sadly is suffering with severe mental health troubles. He is currently staying in a hospital in the North West, although he lives in London. Despite the fact that he is struggling there was a strange joy in being together, catching up after all this time and rekindling an old bond and friendship. We shared many memories together, many joys and many pains.

Last week spending time with him and others brought a soothing, a comfort to my heart and soul. It is something in the deep bonding and reconnecting. That said it was painful too, seeing an old friend suffering so. Solace isn’t just about comforting as we understand it today, as a “there, there”, in its original meaning there is a sense of pleasure and joy too. As there was in the conversation with my friend, there was laughter too. Solace is about reconnecting with life once again, something I was beginning to feel all through Monday, so many gifts of reconnection came my way.

As David Whyte so beautifully put in his essay on the word “Solace”

“Solace is not an evasion, nor a cure for our suffering, nor a made up state of mind. Solace is a direct seeing and participation; a celebration of the beautiful coming and going, appearance and disappearance of which we have always been a part. Solace is not meant to be an answer, but an invitation, through the door of pain and difficulty, the depth of suffering and simultaneous beauty in the world that the strategic mind by itself cannot grasp nor make sense of.”

Now some have wrongly suggested that the words “solar” and “Solace” are etymologically related, they are not. Solar comes from Solaris, meaning of the sun, from “sol” where as “solace has a completely different root, meaning comfort and consolation.

That said I know just getting up early and watching another sunrise is a beautiful source a comfort to so many, a true solace. On Monday morning a beautiful facebook memory came up, a reflection by Parker J Palmer, on another sunrise, which includes the beautiful poem “The Sun” by Mary Oliver. Mary’s work is another solace to me. Parker wrote of the poem and the sunset:

“Your few minutes with the sun this morning will mean nothing if you spend the rest of the day turning away from the world’s wonders to obsess over your ego-needs.

Do your work, yes. But remember that you're sustained by visible and invisible powers too vast and mysterious to understand. As the day goes on, look out, look up, and simply say, “Thanks."”

I spent Monday being offered this opportunity and taking it. Here is Mary’s poem:

“The Sun” by Mary Oliver

Have you ever seen
Anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone--
and how it slides again

out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance--
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love--
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed--
or have you too
turned from this world--

or have you too
gone crazy
for power,

Where do we seek solace, when life is difficult? I was thinking of the young footballers who had missed the penalties last Sunday night. They were consoled by their teammates and of course their manager who himself had suffered the very same fate in 1996.

Gareth Southgate was asked what he had said to one the players, the 19 year old Saka to bring him comfort. He said “that it is my responsibility”, not the players. It is rare to see a leader truly take responsibility in our current age. Gareth is a wonderful example of leadership. That said it wasn't he who suffered the abuse, it was the players.

No doubt they will be fine, they will be supported by their colleagues and clubs and decent supporters. There are many others in life who are not as fortunate as these wealthy and generally much loved young men. People who have little or no support, where do they turn for comfort, for solace? There is much suffering around us, whether on a material, mental health and or spiritual level. I was out with friends on Saturday night and noticed some destitute folk stopping cars in the middle of the road in Rusholm, begging for money. We have a growing homelessness problem in this country and a mental health epidemic that will hit us hard in the next months, particularly amongst the young. Where and how do we offer solace? Where and how do we offer comfort to those in and around us?

To quote Isiah 40 v 1 “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.”

Comfort is another of those interesting words that does not mean exactly what we thought it meant. I had a conversation with Hugh, from Urmston about this recently following a Sunday service. He highlighted the origins of the word “comfort”. As we understand it today to offer comfort is to soothe, to offer solace. This though is not what it originally meant.

Comfort comes from the Latin word comfortare, which means “strengthen greatly.” To give comfort is to shore up the mood or physical state of someone else. It may take quite some time to shore up someone when they are lost, in a state or despair, or deep depression. It takes more than just going for a walk, taking flowers, encouraging them to find a love and connection through nature. Yes, these help, of course they do, but you cannot just lift a deep state of depression this way. The support maybe needed for quite some time. To strengthen someone greatly takes some time and effort and above all consistency.

Parker J Palmer has spoken a great deal about the various periods of depression that he has suffered throughout his life. Here is an extract from a podcast shared by “On Being” where he described the responses of friends to a particularly severe bout.

“I had folks coming to me, of course, who wanted to be helpful; and sadly, many of them weren’t. These were the people who would say, “Gosh, Parker, why are you sitting in here being depressed? It’s a beautiful day outside. Go feel the sunshine and smell the flowers.” And that, of course, leaves a depressed person even more depressed, because while you know, intellectually, that it’s sunny out and that the flowers are lovely and fragrant, you can’t really feel any of that in your body, which is dead in a sensory way. And so you’re left more depressed by this “good advice” to get out and enjoy the day…”

…He continued…

“There was this one friend who came to me, after asking permission to do so, every afternoon about 4:00, sat me down in a chair in the living room, took off my shoes and socks, and massaged my feet. He hardly ever said anything — he was a Quaker elder — and yet, out of his intuitive sense, from time to time would say a very brief word, like: “I can feel your struggle today,” or, farther down the road, “I feel that you’re a little stronger at this moment, and I’m glad for that.” But beyond that, he would say hardly anything. He would give no advice. He would simply report, from time to time, what he was intuiting about my condition. Somehow, he found the one place in my body, namely, the soles of my feet, where I could experience some sort of connection to another human being. And the act of massaging just — in a way that I really don’t have words for — kept me connected with the human race.”

It is pretty clear who were the people that helped Parker through this dark time in his life. The ones who offered him solace, who gave him true comfort. Of course, this last eighteen months it has become even harder to offer such comfort due to the conditions we have had to live through in order to try and contain the virus. How though do we offer comfort to one another as we move on through life? Well, we have to become ever more creative.

We have been haven’t we and we continue to do so. Why because we are resilient, and love wins out. There are gifts, there is solace, there is comfort all around us. We can offer it to one another or at least remind one another where to find it. I got my flowers as suggested, although they were not bought from a supermarket or picked from a garden. They were sent to me by an old dear friend who sent a clip of himself playing “Sunflowers” by Paul Weller. Just what the doctor ordered. They brought solace, they brought comfort, just when I needed them most. Thank God my senses were alive enough to receive them.

I’m going to end with these words of blessing by John O’Donohue “For Suffering”

May you be blessed in the holy names of those
Who, without you knowing it,
Help to carry and lighten your pain.

May you know serenity
When you are called
To enter the house of suffering.

May a window of light always surprise you.

May you be granted the wisdom
To avoid false resistance;
When suffering knocks on the door of your life,
May you glimpse its eventual gifts.

May you be able to receive the fruits of suffering.

May memory bless and protect you
With the hard-earned light of past travail;
To remind you that you have survived before
And though the darkness now is deep,
You will soon see the approaching light.

May the grace of time heal your wounds.

May you know that though the storm might rage,
Not a hair of your head will be harmed.

by John O’Donohue

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