At a recent “Colours of Grief: Our Shared Experience of Love and Loss”, a group we host at Dunham Road, that offers space in which we share and hold each other in our experiences of grief, a man in attendance shared some wisdom from a nature program he had watched online. He spoke about how a certain type of tree survived hurricanes; how the trees in question while appearing to be standing alone were actually connected and supporting one another. It would seem that their roots not only spread far and wide into the earth, but actually connected together and held the trees firm while the branches and trunks were buffeted and all around was devastated. He shared this beautiful wisdom as we spoke about the need to connect and hold one another in our struggles and suffering that no one is an island. That we need one another, that we are held together by a web of mutuality. As you can imagine the conversation sparked my homiletic consciousness.
A couple of days later I tried to contact the man to ask if he could remember where he had seen the program, unfortunately he could not. I was going to give up but the thought would not let me go. It got me thinking about community and roots and how strong and interconnected roots not only protect the individual but allow them to grow and thrive. It also got me thinking about trees. I have been noticing the trees ever since, paying deep attention.
As I look at the trees I feel humbled. They outlive most of us, they live for centuries standing still and silent throughout the changing seasons and years. Yes eventually their lifespans do come to an end, they do not live forever like no element of life does. They come from the Great Mystery and return to it too. They experience the changing seasons, but offer no commentary on it. Their presence keep our all our too human hubris in check.
I have grown to love the way that trees celebrate the changing seasons, in silence and security. Just standing there as symbols of the changing nature of life. Yes they bend and reshape and change in colour. They look different as the seasons progress and yet stand there safe and secure expressing the eternal nature of life.
The trees have much to teach us. My name sake and American colleague Rev Greta W. Crosby recognises this. She describes a silent none judgemental presence that the trees offer her, something we humans cannot give no matter how well we may think we are at listening. The trees simply stand there erect and open, never shrinking away or rejecting, offering unconditional love and acceptance. In “Tree and Jubilee” she wrote:
“I have long had a sense of fellowship with trees. Since I was a child, I have sought their company from time to time because I like the way I feel in their presence. I enjoy their beauty, but it is more than that. I used the word “presence” in a very strong sense. I felt their presence as living things. And in that presence, I often feel relaxed and centered, peaceful, restored to inner equilibrium.
For many of us, life is the meaning of the tree. But for me, perhaps the greatest thing about the tree is its silence. Whatever the tree says to us, whatever it answers to our questing, the tree gives its message without words. And the tree bears with us well. It does not judge. It does not react to our anxieties. It does not run after us. It just stands there with open arms.”
I was thinking about these qualities as Sue and I walked around the grounds of Chatsworth House last Monday. Sue, like Greta, often embraces trees and she did several times that day. I did not, I simply observed them reverently, occasionally finding myself bowing toward them and as I did my mind wandered to concept of “The Tree of Life”
The “Tree of Life” is a beautiful and universal symbol that can be found in many of the world’s religious traditions. The ancient Chinese, Assyrians, Egyptians, Baylonians and Samarians all had a tree of life symbol. There is Ygdrassil, the Norse Tree of Life, The Etz Ha Hayim of the Kaballistic Jews. The Bahai's speak of it and Christians of all kinds speak of the tree of life, with healing leaves, found in the Book of Revelations. The book of Genesis tells of two trees: a Tree of Knowledge, which is the tree of good and evil, and the Tree of Life, the tree of immortality. I wonder why Adam and Eve chose “The Tree of Knowledge over “The Tree of Life”. The tree of life is a symbol of re-birth and renewal; it is a sign post to the path of enlightenment; it reveals a timeless and eternal wisdom. The Buddha gained enlightenment beneath the Bodhi Tree. The tree blessed him as it did so showering him with blossom. Wisdom also comes to mind when I think of the “Tree of Life”, an eternal wisdom that comes with age. A deeper wisdom than knowledge alone.
There is a wisdom in the trees, they have so much to teach us. The story I had heard in the grief group kept on nagging at me. I wanted to discover more. Sue did some research for me and found some fascinating articles online, but not exactly what I heard about and was seeking. One was a piece on “The Hidden Life of Trees: What they feel and how they communicate – Discoveries from a secret world” by Peter Wohlleben. He is a German forrester who has revolutionized his field. Through years of dedicated work he has highlighted an unprecedented level of cooperation among trees in a forest, noting that “mother” trees suckle the young saplings, feeding them enough sugars produced by their own photosynthesis to keep them from dying. The trees are connected by their roots, which grow together like a network. Their root tips have highly sensitive brain-like structures that can distinguish whether the root that it encounters in the soil is its own root, the root of another species, or the roots of its own species. He also explains how trees communicate through electrical signals that can be measured through the bark and roots. They send chemical signals through the air when they are attacked by insects. Nearby trees receive these messages and have time to prepare their defenses. Something that has been named as the Wood Wide Web.
Another article described the giant redwood trees of California, the largest trees in the world that have survived for thousands of years throughout turbulent times. It seems that these trees are unique amongst tall trees as their roots are not deep, they grow outwards instead and when they come in contact with roots of other Redwoods they wrap around each other multiple times and form a strong connection. Each tree shares a bond with another tree through its roots, until eventually, every single tree is interconnected. The roots hold on to one another through the harshest of weather, and keep the family of trees standing tall and strong, together. The roots of older and wiser trees hold on to the roots of trees just beginning to grow. They are held and protected by and underground system of interconnection, their strength is shared and they grow together.
I thought that this article must have been describing the trees I had heard about, but it was not. I kept on searching and then I found the film, from a channel entitled “Think Like a Tree”. It was a story about Hurricane Katrina and the 700 trees on Oak Street in New Orleans. The houses were completely destroyed their but only 4 out of 700 oaks had the same fate, the rest survived intact. There was a good reason for this, one being their spiral trunks and branches which allowed them to flex in the wind. Also their leaves curled into a Fibonacci sequence which allowed the wind to flow through with minimal friction. All of these characteristics helped but the real secret lay in their roots, which like the redwoods were intertwined with its neighbour. So when the hurricanes hit a tree it wasn’t hitting one tree, it was hitting a whole community of trees. It was thus the intertwining of the roots of the trees that allowed them to survive the elements.
Click here to watch the video from "Think Like a Tree
As I reflected on these fascinating ways that trees seemingly survive and thrive in challenging conditions through a kind of mutuality, I thought how much we humans could learn. We are not merely individual life forms we belong to web of mutuality, all life is connected and interconnected. To truly thrive we need to take care of our roots and our connections to one another. I wonder if as a society this is something that we lose sight of. What we do to the least of us we do to all of us.
This brings to mind that wonderful hymn “Spirit of Life” by Carolyn McDade particularly the line “Roots hold me close, wings set me free”. The roots come before the wings, we need to be held close, in mutual love, in order to truly thrive and therefore to fly free, to be all that we can possibly be. To focus only on the wings does not create the community and stability that we all need. When I think of those roots that hold the essence of those trees and enables them to thrive it reminds me of communal love. It seems to me that this love is that unseen force that connects all life and that enables us to form deep and meaningful relationships with ourselves, with each other and with all life. I name this God, others may use different words.
It is love that allows us to connect with all that exists, all that has been in the time before now and all that will be in the future. It is love that enables those roots to stretch out and connect to each other, to communicate and feed one another in a web of mutuality, just like the forest trees and the oaks of New Orleans. It is love that hold us close and it is love that allows us to stretch out the wings that will set us free and allow us to glide in the wind. To know love is to know that you belong and it is this that is perhaps the ultimate freedom.
It is the roots of belonging that give us the freedom to stretch out the wings and fly in the wind, free...This is love...We all belong somewhere, no one exists completely in a vacuum.
This to me is the essence of a free religious community. such as the Unitarian tradition that am a part of. A place where you feel that you can belong. A space where visitors and those already present can feel loving roots that hold them close so that they can spread their wings and begin to fly free. A community where the spiritual traveller can rest a while and find sustenance for their journey. A place with deep roots that can hold us during the vicissitudes of life, but not constrain us, so that we can fly free.
A place where you may find a sense of belonging; a space where you may find the love that connects and accepts you and allow you to live and thrive and encourage one another to fly free.
As regular readers of my blog will know my step-brother Allen is very close to the end of his life due to Pancreatic cancer. I recently visited him in the hospice where he is receiving care. As I sat with him other family members his father arrived and began to sing him lullabies that he sang him as a boy. It was one of the most beautiful moments of tenderness I have ever witnessed, it brings tears to my eyes as I write these words. I could see the comfort that our Allen felt as his father sang to him and I could see that his father was receiving comfort from the words as he sang. Song and the singing of our songs has the power to touch the special hard to reach places in all our hearts; the singing of our songs can bring healing and connection.
A few days later a friend sent me a copy of the meditation “Listening for Our Song” by David S Blanchard...it touched a place in my soul...
"On sabbatical in East Africa, I heard a story of a people who believe that we are each created with our own song. Their tradition as a community is to honor that song by singing it as welcome when a child is born, as comfort when the child is ill, in celebration when the child marries, and in affirmation and love when death comes. Most of us were not welcomed into the world in that way. Few of us seem to know our song.
It takes a while for many of us to figure out which is our song, and which is the song that others would like us to sing. Some of us are slow learners. I heard my song not necessarily from doing extraordinary things in exotic places, but also from doing some pretty ordinary things in some routine places. For every phrase I heard climbing Kilimanjaro, I learned another in a chair in a therapist’s office. For every measure I heard in the silence of a retreat, I heard another laughing with my girls. For every note I heard in the wind on the beach at Lamu, I gleaned more from spending time with a dying friend as her children sang her song back to her. What came to astound me was not that the song appeared, but that it was always there.
I figure that the only way I could have known it for my own was if I had heard it before, before memory went to work making sense and order of the mystery of our beginning. Our songs sing back to us something of our essence, something of our truth, something of our uniqueness. When our songs are sung back to us, it is not about approval, but about recognizing our being and our belonging in the human family.
It is good to know our songs by heart for those lonely times when the world is not singing them back to us. That’s usually a good time to start humming to yourself, that song that is most your own.
They can be heard as songs of love or of longing, songs of encouragement or of comfort, songs of struggle or of security. But most of all, they are the songs of life, giving testimony to what has been, giving praise for all we’re given, giving hope for all we strive for, giving voice to the great mystery that carries each of us in and out of this world."
Last Sunday I listened to the congregations I serve sing the following words “Roots hold me close, wings set me free” by Carolyn McDade last Sunday. They are beautiful words that touch those special hard to reach places at the core of my being. As I listened it dawned on me that the roots come before the wings, that we are held close before we can be set free. It got me thinking that in order to fly free we need roots that hold us close.
For much of my life I thought that freedom and the attainment of it were the things of the highest value in life; that liberation meant escaping the shackles that hold us back and stop us being all that we were meant to be. I sang songs about freedom as I left behind all that I saw as unimportant. When I look back now what I see is a man who was a slave to freedom.
Over the last few years I have learnt about love; I have learnt something about what love actually is. I am not talking about romance here. No, I am talking about that unseen force that connects all life and that enables us to form deep and meaningful relationships with ourselves, with each other and with all life. I name this God, others may use different words.
It is love that allows me to connect with all that exists now, all that has been in the time before now and all that will be in the future. It is love that has become the roots that hold me close and it is love that allows me to stretch out the wings that will set me free and allow me to glide in the wind. To know love is to know that you belong and it is this that is perhaps the ultimate freedom.
I have known and experienced a great deal of love these last few weeks as I have felt the pain of grief and loss. I felt it last Thursday as I attended and spoke at my my grandad's funeral, as I joined with others to celebrate the old lad's life and to say our final farewell. These last few weeks I have listened to my nearest and dearest and I have listened to those around me, I have listened to life too and to that transcendent voice that lives in the spaces between life. It has been a tiring time and a deeply emotional time and yet through it all there has been a deepening sense of connection and belonging. Something is changing as I feel those roots that hold me close entering deeper into life’s crust. Life has opened up and increased in meaning as I have felt the wings of life stretching and expanding.
I now know what matters more than anything is a sense that you belong, that you are a part of life. You see what I have learnt is that I was not really singing songs of freedom in the past. No they were not songs of freedom, they were songs of escape.
It is the roots of belonging that give me the freedom to stretch out the wings and fly in the wind, free...This is love...
We all belong somewhere, no one exists completely in a vacuum. Even those on the run, as I once was, are on the run from something. Even the loneliest of souls belong to something. Now this may well be our families of birth, our work and or community commitments or friendship circles our social and political networks. Even if you reject all of this you still belong to the community of rejection. We belong to cultures and nations and perhaps social class. We also belong to something more than all these things. We belong to whatever it is that holds and guides us. For me it is the love that I name God, for others it may be something different. We belong to what we experience at the core of life and what that compels us to believe.
One of the many things that makes me smile these days is that even when I believed in nothing I still belonged at least to some degree, even though I really didn’t want to. I belonged to nihilism.
A sense of belonging is a deeply precious thing. It is belonging that helps us become who we are meant to be. It is a sense of being rooted and being held and loved by these roots that allows us to spread our wings and fly free; it is a sense of being rooted that enables us to not fear the wind, but to embrace it and to let ourselves go. When you feel that you do not belong you cannot thrive, you shrivel up and stop living.
Now of course we do not need to belong in exactly the same way; our roots need not, in fact should not, be identical in order for us to belong. Each root has to find its own way into the soil. To truly belong is to be welcomed exactly as you are warts and all and beauty spots too.
How each person finds a sense of belonging may well be different too; people belong in different ways.
Some people find belonging through action; they belong through experiences and challenges. They are the kind of people who live for today, they are impulsive, spontaneous. Such people do not like to feel that they are constrained by their roots and focus more on the wings that can set them free. They need to experience their place of belonging as a play ground. That said they still need their roots that can hold them close even if it’s just within their own hearts and souls.
Some people find their belonging through improvement, whether it’s of themselves or the communities in which they belong. Such people really find their belonging in the future in what might or should be, on what can be built.
Some people belong through finding a sense of meaning. They exist through a sense of openness to possibilities and potentials. I suspect that I’m someone who belongs in this way. They too belong to some degree in the future in what might be in what is yet to come
Some people just need to belong, to be accepted by others. These people often live through the past. They are motivated by the fear of being rejected of being left out. They find their meaning through others. This ought not to be seen negatively, because once such a person feels that sense of belonging it is they who do most of the community building and it is they who enable others to fly free. They are often the foundation on which everything else thrives. They are the nest builders.
I am sure there are other ways in which we find a sense of belonging and most of us are probably a mixture of all these types. Everyone is a complex mixture of needs and wants. That said there is one thing that holds us together, that allows us to thrive as individuals, that is a sense of belonging.
To belong you need to be yourself, while paradoxically in order to be yourself you must first of all feel that you belong.
I love the idea that David Blanchard speaks of that we each have our own song and that we find this song in all aspects of our lives, whether in the seemingly sublime or mundane. He says that “Our songs sing back to us something of our essence, something of our truth, something of our uniqueness. When our songs are sung back to us, it is not about approval, but about recognizing our being and our belonging in the human family”...(he continues)...“They can be heard as songs of love or of longing, songs of encouragement or of comfort, songs of struggle or of security. But most of all, they are the songs of life, giving testimony to what has been, giving praise for all we’re given, giving hope for all we strive for, giving voice to the great mystery that carries each of us in and out of this world.”
He says that it is good to know our own songs and to learn them by heart. This is because there will be days when we do not feel like we belong and we will not perhaps hear life singing our songs back to us. So sometimes we will have to hum our own songs until we find our way back home to that place where we belong.
What are your songs? What is that you sing that makes you feel that you belong? Maybe that’s something to think about. This is something I am asking the congregations I serve to do as we step onwards into 2014. As I do I am reminding them that we don’t necessarily have to sing in unison; as I do I am reminding them that we are free to sing our own songs, but also that we need to sing them together and that sometimes we need others to remind us what are songs are. We all forget our own songs from time to time. We need to hear our songs from the lips of others from time to time, to remind us what our own songs are.
We need to hear every song by the way, not just one or two. Each voice has something to offer; each reveals something of the truth. Sometimes certain voices dominate and to allow this is a mistake. If we don't listen to every voice we will never hear the whole song.
I was chatting with one of my neighbours the other day. She asked how long I had lived in Altrincham. I told her it was nearly three and a half years. We both agreed that it seemed like only yesterday that I moved here. it is hard to believe that I have served the good people of Urmston and Altrincham for three and half years. I have attempted to build on what my predecessors have done to build a free religious community, open to all. I hope that have helped to create a space where those who come feel that they can belong. a place where visitors and those already present can feel loving roots that hold them close so that they can spread their wings and begin to fly free. A place where they can sing their own songs and if they haven’t yet discovered it, a place where they can find their song and take their first tentative steps to begin singing it; a place where they can hear the songs of others and perhaps begin to blend or harmonise with them; a place where we can discover new songs together.
My dream is create communities where the spiritual traveller can rest a while and find sustenance for their journey. My hope is that they find here a place where they belong, where they can can sing their song not only here but out their in the world for all to share and therefore encourage others to join in with them. My dream is to develop a community where all may feel that they belong; a place where the roots will hold us close so that we can begin to spread our wings and begin to fly free.
I will end this little chip of a blog with the following poem on belonging by John O'Donohue.
“For Belonging”
May you listen to your longing to be free.
May the frames of your belonging be generous enough
for your dreams.
My you arise each day with a voice of blessing
whispering in your heart.
May you find a harmony between your soul and
your life.
May the sanctuary of your soul never become haunted.
May you know the eternal longing that lives at the heart of time.
May there be kindness in your gaze when you look within.
May you never place walls between the light and yourself.
May you allow the wild beauty of the invisible world
“And I’ll bring you hope when hope is hard to find and I’ll bring
a song of love and rose in the winter time.” Carolyn McDade
The last few weeks have been particularly
difficult within my wider family. Both my grand dad and my step brother Allen
are very close to the end of lives. They have over the Christmas holidays been
moved into hospices in different parts of the country.
I was feeling particularly low between
Christmas and New Year, I hit an emotional rock bottom. I rang my sister Mandy
whose birthday it was in the 27th of December. As we talked things
began to change within me. During the conversation she repeatedly said to me that she keeps on looking for the love and it is this that carries
her through the darker days. A couple of days later she sent me an email that
although filled with sadness and suffering, was beautifully transformative; she
wrote some of the most beautifully faith filled words I have read in some time.
Mandy had gone to visit Allen, he had been
taken into the hospital, for the final time. On arriving she looked around the
grounds, there was little or no natural life to be found. All the trees were
bare and the plant life had died off. This deepened her sadness as she walked
inside. Sometime later, as she was leaving, she noticed a lifeless shrubbery
which she gazed at for a few moments. Suddenly her eyes caught sight of
something else, one of the most beautiful winter sights anyone could wish to
see. A single rose, "a rose in the winter time". In that moment she
realised that she had found the love that she had been searching for; this love
has continued to grow as she passed it on to me and it brought me hope when I
was struggling to find it; the email was a pure song of love as she told me of
that rose in the winter time. Strangely I’ve heard the birds outside my window
singing more clearly these last few days. I've found that “peace that passeth
all understanding”, once again, as I have fully accepted life and stopped doing
battle with reality.
There is a somewhat peculiarly worded
Celtic wedding vow that I have heard uttered by several people recently. It
reads as follows..
“I honour your gods
I drink at your well
I bring an undefended heart to our meeting
place
I have no cherished outcome
I will not negotiate by withholding
I am not subject to disappointment”
It is not what you would describe as
romantic and yet there is something deeply moving about it. It touches
something way down in the depths of my being. It is the line “I bring an
undefended heart to our meeting place” that has been resonating with me for
quite some time.
I am learning that one of the keys of
spiritual living is an undefended, an open, heart. This can be extremely painful
and difficult at times, but I have learnt how vital it is for me. When I close
down or put on my suit of armour life soon loses its flavour. I suppose that
this is why I’ve always struggled with the sentiment of Ephesians 6 vv 10-18,
the passage commonly known as “God’s Armour”. I was recently at an Anglo
Catholic church where I saw an image based around this passage. I remember
thinking to myself “gosh that’s the last thing I would want.”
For me religion and spirituality are not
about being at war or in conflict. It is hard for anyone to truly know what
God's will for them might be but I am fairly certain the God of my limited
understanding does not want me armour plaited. I know these kinds of images
appeal to many and certainly to some of my own friends who are Christians. Not
to me though and it does seem in conflict with the message I find in the
Gospels.
Increasingly for me the spiritual life is
about “Living with an unarmoured heart”, easier said than done I know.
We all have defence mechanism, things we
do to protect ourselves from being hurt. I am sure we are all familiar with the
fight and flight mechanism. There is another reaction to perceived danger too that
perhaps we are less familiar with, it is certainly one that is less talked
about. I have come to call this the freeze mechanism. It is something I am very
familiar with, for I have utilised it throughout my life. Basically when
trouble strikes a frozen person appears to continue to function normally on the
outside, but inside, emotionally at least, they shut down, they internally
hibernate. When it happens to me my neck and shoulders become stiff, my throat
dries up, the base of my skull seems to become warm and itchy, my skin tightens around my
face, I tend to blow out a lot and it feels like someone has just dropped a
great rock into the pit of my stomach. These are the moments when I build up my
walls and try to keep life out.
How many of us spend lifetime’s building walls around our hearts that we think will protect us when in fact all they succeed in doing is
block us off from the love present in life? It does not have to be like that.
We can live with an undefended heart. Just imagine what that might be like.
To live with an open heart is to live
intimately with all that is life. It is to experience life through our felt
experience to not be ruled by what our minds project from our past, those
disappointments and fears that have been built over a life time. To live with
an unarmoured heart is about connecting with all that is there. Zen Buddhism
talks about intimacy with 10,000 things, meaning intimacy with all things, all
phenomena, that nothing is left out. This is precisely what it means to live
with an unarmoured heart.
But how do we know if we are living this
way? Well I have discovered that I am living openheartedly when I am not at war
with life, when I am not arguing with reality and not avoiding intimacy,
especially with my own thoughts and feelings. I have found myself arguing with
reality at times these past few weeks, but thankfully this has not lasted, I
have not remained in a frozen state for too long. Another sign is the capacity
to see joy even when in deep pain and unhappiness.
To live joyfully is live by heart. I think
too often we live by the head alone; this so often limits our human
experiences. The head should not be master in my book. Why? Well because so
often it does not tell us the whole truth, it can limit our experience. There
is something deeper something more that occurs when we attempt to live by the
heart and an unarmoured one at that.
A few weeks ago, during worship, I shared
a version of the “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” story with the congregations
I serve. After I’d finished I asked them to sing the song to me. Virtually
every single one of them did so and they loved it; they enjoyed
themselves as they let themselves go. They knew the words too. I am certain
that this was not because they had spent hours studying them; no instead they
learnt them by heart. They learnt them as they sang the words joyfully. Those
words and many other songs and other aspects of our lives are stored somewhere
deep within us, much deeper than our minds and even deeper than our hearts. I
would say that they are embedded in our souls. This is why they spring from our
hearts at certain times. How many times do we find ourselves doing something or
going somewhere when suddenly something just bursts out from the core of our
being? Some old lost memory, something we probably couldn’t remember if we
searched our minds and yet there it comes bursting from our open hearts.
A couple of years ago I attended a session
led by “singing therapists” who work with people with Alzheimer’s and
Parkinson’s. They explained how singing old songs, especially from their
childhood and young adulthood, brought many people who seemed almost lost back
to life, if only for a few moments. I have since watched several television
programs that have explained how this works. Now I do not understand the
scientific explanation for this and it’s not my place to attempt to explain, I
am after all a minister of religion. You can look that up yourselves. All I
know is what I witness and that’s people who are seemingly lost coming back to
life, if only for the briefest of times. What I see is heart memory not only
surviving but at times thriving. To me it is another beautiful example of that
rose in the winter time; another beautiful symbol of pure hope.
Now please do not get me wrong when I talk
of living by heart I am not for one moment decrying the mind, far from it. It
is vital that in matters of religion and all life that we develop the mind and
maintain rational perspective. That said I also believe that we must also watch
out for the fetters that can be created by our own minds. We need to be careful
that we are not ruled wholly by the mind, that we do not make it a God.
We are now a few days into a New Year. I suppose
my simple message as we step further into it is to try and live as open hearted as we
possibly can; to not be ruled by the fears of what might be or the frustrations
and let downs of the past; to not put on that suit of armour and go into battle
with life. It will not protect us in any case; all it will do is block us off from
what really matters in life. The God I have come to know does not want or need
this from us. I believe that this infinite source of all love would prefer us
live with an unarmoured heart and an open spirit. I believe that by doing so we
will see the beautiful symbols of hope all around us and by doing so we may
just bring some hope into the lives of other. For we all need to know that rose
in the winter time.
“Cos I’ll bring you hope when hope is hard
to find and I’ll sing a song of love and a rose in the winter time.”
