Attention is the Beginning of Devotion: The Life and Work of Mary Oliver

The great poet Mary Oliver recently died. I have over the years shared several pieces of her work in the worship I create. I am not unique in this. she has been a staple diet for Unitarian worship for many years. So in honour of her life I thought I would share a few selected pieces of her work here and explore some of the spiritual lessons that are contained within it. I thought I'd begin with a little devotional  piece of hers on prayer. For as she has said "attention is the beginning of devotion"

“Praying” by Mary Oliver

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

Mary Oliver was born in 1935 and grew up in a small town in Ohio in the USA. She won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award, among her many honors and published numerous collections of poetry and also some prose. She lived and wrote for five decades in Provincetown, Massachusetts on Cape Cod. Her poetry was vivid with a sense of place. She wrote about what she witnessed, but with compassion and empathy, she was never a dispassionate observer. After an illness and the death of her longtime partner, the photographer Molly Malone Cook, Mary Oliver moved to southern Florida where she spent her final few years.

I did not grow up with a love for poetry,but because Mary’s was so easily accessible, conversational with no gimmicks. I engaged with hers easily when I first heard it. I know I am not alone in this as it was her style and her ability to touch the reader deeply and spiritually that is the reason why she has been so loved. She asked the questions that so many folk ask. Her poetry has become a gateway to so many other great poets for me, although interestingly poets of similar vein. She has been described as an ecstatic poet very much in the vein of her idols Shelley, Keats, and Whitman. Nature and the observation and connection to it became a gateway to the sacred for Mary. Her poems feel like devotional prayer. As she has said herself “attention is the beginning of devotion.” This is beautifully exemplified in one of her most loved poems “The Summer Day”:

"The Summer Day"

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

There is something beautiful, simple and humble in her words. Her work is real, something I identify with deeply; the spiritual has to be real for me, or not at all. This beautiful, life affirming poem grew from her empathically observing her own life and experiences. Having observed the life in front of her she asks the question “what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” To her this is religious, devotional living, “attention is the beginning of devotion”

In a conversation with Krista Tippett recorded for “OnBeing” she said of the poem.

“One thing about that poem, which I think is important, is that the grasshopper actually existed. And yet I was able to fit him into that poem. And the sugar he was eating was part of frosting from a Portuguese lady’s birthday cake, which wasn’t important to the poem. But even seeing that little creature come to my plate and say, I’d like a little helping of that. It somehow fascinates me that — that’s just personal for me that it was Mrs. Segura, probably her 90th birthday cake or something.”

Yes for Mary “attention is the beginning of devotion.” Here follows a couple more pieces of her work.

"The Sun"

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?

“The Ponds”

Every year
the lilies
are so perfect
I can hardly believe

their lapped light crowding
the black,
mid-summer ponds.
Nobody could count all of them —

the muskrats swimming
among the pads and the grasses
can reach out
their muscular arms and touch

only so many, they are that
rife and wild.
But what in this world
is perfect?

I bend closer and see
how this one is clearly lopsided —
and that one wears an orange blight —
and this one is a glossy cheek

half nibbled away —
and that one is a slumped purse
full of its own
unstoppable decay.

Still, what I want in my life
is to be willing
to be dazzled —
to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.
I want to believe I am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.
I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing —
that the light is everything — that it is more than the sum
of each flawed blossom rising and fading. And I do.

She was a poet in the old fashioned style, certainly no desk or computer to write on, she shunned such things, instead preferring the freedom of stalking the woods, with a note pad in hand, and dog by her side. Something which began during her childhood, as she played truant from school and fled home. She would walk the woods with Whitman in her knapsack. Here she felt free as she escaped a deeply unhappy home life. The whole family suffered at the hands of a sexually abusive father and a neglectful mother. As she told Krista Tippett. “To this day, I don’t care for the enclosure of buildings.” From the age of thirteen she “made a world out of words,” which became her salvation, it saved her life.

It was during this childhood that she developed her personal faith in God, although an indefinable one, along with her scepticism towards organised religion. At Sunday school she rejected many of the tenets of her faith, such as the resurrection. Even so she said she was probably more interested in religious question than most of her class mates, who accepted the teachings. As she become enchanted by nature, by its endless cycles of birth and death and during those walks in the wood, she developed her creative method. She paid devotional attention to whatever happened to present itself to her. She became like the Sufi mystic Rumi, one of her heroes, she sought to combine the spiritual life with the concrete. As she wrote: “To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.” Thus she perceived the world around her as voices of creation. Each plant, each animal, each bird became a divine messenger. Just like in the creation story she saw that it was from the dirt that all life was created and thus she speaks of the dirt in a divine sense. She speaks of the God of dirt, that through the dirt she hears the divine voice. As she expresses in the following poem “One or Two Things”:

“One or Two Things”

Don’t bother me.
I’ve just
been born.
The butterfly’s loping flight
carries it through the country of the leaves
delicately, and well enough to get it
where it wants to go, wherever that is, stopping
here and there to fuzzle the damp throats
of flowers and the black mud; up
and down it swings, frenzied and aimless; and sometimes

for long delicious moments it is perfectly
lazy, riding motionless in the breeze on the soft stalk
of some ordinary flower.

The god of dirt
came up to me many times and said
so many wise and delectable things, I lay
on the grass listening

to his dog voice,
crow voice,
frog voice; now,
he said, and now,
and never once mentioned forever,

which has nevertheless always been,
like a sharp iron hoof,
at the center of my mind.

One or two things are all you need
to travel over the blue pond, over the deep
roughage of the trees and through the stiff
flowers of lightning—some deep
memory of pleasure, some cutting
knowledge of pain.

But to lift the hoof!
For that you need
an idea.

Here follows a reflection by  Parker J Palmer on Mary’s poem “Spring”. Palmer’s reflection is titled” “Loving the World Means Paying Attention to Its Simple Gifts” It appeared as Facebook memory this week. He had published it last year.

“Loving the World Means Paying Attention to Its Simple Gifts” by Parker J Palmer

This Mary Oliver gem may be the finest poem about spring — and how we live our lives — I’ve ever read. There are no cardinals or crocuses here. Only a black bear awakening from hibernation, coming down the mountain, showing her “perfect love” by doing what bears do.

“There is only one question,” says Mary Oliver: “how to love this world.” You’ll find your own answer to the poet’s question, your own sense of meaning in her words.

For me, the poem opens into mystery. How could it not, since it’s about the “dazzling darkness” that’s forever coming down the mountain toward us?

But this much seems clear. Loving the world means paying attention to its simple gifts, and receiving them with simple gratitude in every moment of our waking lives.

"Spring" by Mary Oliver

Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring

down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring

I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue

like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:

how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge

to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else

my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its glass cities,

it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;

all day I think of her—
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.


Here follow's one of Mary’s classic poems. I’ve had a love for Geese ever since I first heard it. They’ve helped me to find and ref-find my place in the family of things many times.

“Wild Geese”

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Throughout her life Mary found great solace in nature. In her later years though I feel that she found herself much more intimately at home with people. As she has said as she has grew older she entered more fully into the human world and embraced it. As time past she gained a deepr clarity about her own life and the life of others. This in part was due no doubt to the death of her long term partner Molly, as she wrote “The end of life has its own nature, also worth our attention.”

She explored this in one of her later pieces “The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac”, while recovering from cancer:

The question is,
what will it be like
after the last day?
Will I float
into the sky
or will I fray
within the earth or a river -
remembering nothing?
How desperate I would be
if I couldn't remember
the sun rising, if I couldn't
remember trees, rivers; if I couldn't
even remember, beloved,
your beloved name.

Towards the end of her 2015 interview with Krista Tippett Mary was asked about her current spiritual life, Krista asked: “you’ve said somewhere you’ve become more spiritual as you’ve grown older. What do you mean when you say that? What’s the content of that?

To which Mary answered “I’ve become kinder, more people-oriented, more willing to grow old. I always was investigative in terms of everlasting life, but a little more interested now, a little more content with my answers.”

This seems like a rather lovely ending for this "blogspot" reflecting on the life of Mary Oliver. I will though offer one final poem in which she kind of explores the questions. It is a classic and goes by the title “Daisies”

“Daisies” by Mary Oliver

It is possible, I suppose that sometime
we will learn everything
there is to learn: what the world is, for example,
and what it means. I think this as I am crossing
from one field to another, in summer, and the
mockingbird is mocking me, as one who either
knows enough already or knows enough to be
perfectly content not knowing. Song being born
of quest he knows this: he must turn silent
were he suddenly assaulted with answers. Instead
oh hear his wild, caustic, tender warbling ceaselessly
unanswered. At my feet the white-petalled daisies display
the small suns of their center piece, their - if you don't
mind my saying so - their hearts. Of course
I could be wrong, perhaps their hearts are pale and
narrow and hidden in the roots. What do I know?
But this: it is heaven itself to take what is given,
to see what is plain; what the sun lights up willingly;
for example - I think this
as I reach down, not to pick but merely to touch -
the suitability of the field for the daisies, and the
daisies for the field.

The “Long Now Moment”: “Is Patience Still a Virtue?”

I don’t always start my Sunday’s as well as I would like. Last week was a classic example. I found myself rushing back from Sue’s. very early, to Altrincham to get ready for leading worship beginning in Urmston at 10am. I like to get to there early, certainly before 9am, to prepare myself in silence and solitude. As I left Sue’s I turned on the radio and listened to Radio 4’s excellent Sunday morning program “Something Understood”. The first word I heard was “Patience”. It was an episode on “Slowing Down”. I only heard about half of it and thought to myself “That sounded interesting”, I’ll listen to it later, it had awakened my homiletic consciousness. (I was in far too much of hurry to listen there and then, so funny!)

I found myself rushing around a bit that morning, getting frustrated as everything just seemed to take too long. I got particularly frustrated with my computer as I attempted to catch up with world affairs and friends on social networks, as well as answer emails. I remember that old familiar cry coming out of my mouth “I haven’t got time for this”, as I lost my wi-fi connection for the third time. I have noticed on cold dark, wet and windy days it seems to go down more often.

On the way to Urmston I called into the local garage and bought a coffee and petrol. I remember getting frustrated at the card machine as I attempted to pay, complaining (under my breath) it always takes so long. At which the man behind the counter responded, “people are so impatient these days, you have to wait for me to authorise the payment.” It caused me to pause and as I left I smiled and laughed at myself and once again noticed my homiletic consciousness come to life. I was noticing I was rushing and certainly lacking patience that morning.

As I drove to Urmston I found myself slowing down and truly connecting to what I was doing. I spent the day noticing so many things and truly engaged with all I was doing. I remembered the lovely two days I had just spent, slowing down and connecting. I remembered all the times I enjoyed simply walking in nature. The day before I had enjoyed a lovely walk around Sale Water Park with Sue and Poppy the dog. I thought about my times of connection walking around Dunham Massey and those beautiful deer in recent years, I also remember how connected I had felt walking round Platt Fields Park, particularly with the geese in the lake, as a student minister. It was lovely connecting all those moments that had brought me to this moment and how those moments had helped to make the moment I was living right now, they brought the moment alive. I saw the connection of my life and that moment with all life and those moments of connection that I will know and all those folk that will enjoy them when I am long gone. As I did I felt this strange sensation of time being stretched. We do not merely live in this Golden moment, but in a timeless never ending, long and deep moment, for time and space is eternal it is without limit.

Something Understood

The next morning I listened to the full episode of “Something Understood”, it has inspired this "blogspot". During the episode reference was made to what is called the “Long Now Moment.” And the “Long Now Foundation” I have to say it spoke to me powerfully as it shared some of my long held frustrations with some understandings of contemporary spirituality. Particularly how people talk about “The Now” or the “The Present” and how I find that it often feeds into our self-centredness. For me it’s not just about living in the moments, but how we live in the time and space we find ourselves and to truly see that this time and space is connected to all that has ever been and will ever be. That we and they way we inhabit time and space really does matter, for it effects everything. It’s not that we live passively in the moment, but bring it to life, and thus create a legacy for all that follows. The “Long Now Moment” speaks powerfully to my heart, my mind and certainly my soul.

The “Long Now Moment” is inspired by a story, which may well be mythos, but hey stories are all about mythos; a story of rotting Oak Beams in New College Oxford. The college was founded in the 14th century. At its heart lies a dining hall that features expensive oak beams across its ceiling. Now these great beams had lasted about 500 years, but during the late nineteenth century an entomologist discovered that the beams were infested with beetles and needed replacing. This was a big problem for the college for such beams, of sufficient size and quality, would be hard to find and expensive.

One of the college’s junior fellows suggested that there might be some worthy oaks within the college lands. The college had, when it was formed, been endowned with land scattered around England and run by the college forester. So he was called in and asked if there were any such oaks on the lands. He paused for a moment and then a reassuring expression appeared on his face and he said “Well sirs, we was wonderin’ when you’d be askin’.” It seems that when the College had been founded a grove of oaks had been planted to replace the beams in the dining hall when they became beetly, because oak beams always become beetly in the end. It seems that this plan had been passed down from one Forester to the next for over five hundred years. Each forester was told that “You don’t cut them oaks. Them’s for the College Hall.” It would appear that the founders of New College were not just obsessed with themselves and their time and place. They thought of their legacy, of the generations that followed.

This story, whether true or apocryphal, has become a foundational tale of the “Long Now Moment” movement that has developed in recent times. “The Long Now Moment” movement has developed in response to the fast paced instant society that we live in today, one that does not really think of the future and has a kind of disrespect of the past, a generation that has kind of hijacked the spirituality of Now.

The innovative musician, producer and composer Brian Eno is one of the key proponents of the “Long Now Moment”, he became interested in long now living after moving to new York and being shocked how instant and insular the people living there were. It was almost as if nothing existed outside of the moment folk were living in or outside of the widow of the buildings they were enclosed within. He has said that:

“"Now" is never just a moment. The Long Now is the recognition that the precise moment you're in grows out of the past and is a seed for the future. The longer your sense of Now, the more past and future it includes. It's ironic that, at a time when humankind is at a peak of its technical powers, able to create huge global changes that will echo down the centuries, most of our social systems seem geared to increasingly short nows. Huge industries feel pressure to plan for the bottom line and the next shareholders meeting. Politicians feel forced to perform for the next election or opinion poll. The media attract bigger audiences by spurring instant and heated reactions to human interest stories while overlooking longer-term issues - the real human interest…”

He continues…

“…We don't yet, however, live in The Long Now. Our empathy doesn't extend far forward in time. We need now to start thinking of our great-grandchildren, and their great-grandchildren, as other fellow-humans who are going to live in a real world which we are incessantly, though only semi-consciously, building. But can we accept that our actions and decisions have distant consequences, and yet still dare do anything?”

Danny Hills of the “Long Now Foundation” has been working on creating a long time clock as a kind of practical symbol of the of “Long Now” living. The idea is to create a clock that will last 10,000 years. Human society has existed for 10.000 years and the idea is to put our current place at the half way point of this. On the face of it this seems like a crazy idea, how can a machine last this long? The point is though to get us think of the future. As Stuart Brand has said:

“Such a clock, if sufficiently impressive and well engineered, would embody deep time for people. It should be charismatic to visit, interesting to think about, and famous enough to become iconic in the public discourse. Ideally, it would do for thinking about time what the photographs of Earth from space have done for thinking about the environment. Such icons reframe the way people think.”

Such a clock may just help us transcend the selfish thinking that keeps us enslaved in our time and space. Such short term thinking can be so destructive. “Long Now Moment” living can slow us down and help us to connect and be still enough to begin to live reverentially again. To begin to understand that how we live and act really matters, it affects our lives and it impacts on the lives of others. The trouble is that we want things now and we want them instantly. There’s nothing new here by the way, we humans have always had a tendency towards this. Perhaps this is why the religious traditions have always suggested that we need to slow down and connect and thus begin to revere once again.

This brings to mind the story of Elijah, from the Book of Kings. He wanted to know God and wanted this instantly. He goes to a cave on mount Horeb where he is told that God will pass by and speak directly to him. A great wind comes, followed by an earthquake and then a fire, but we are told that God is in none of them. Following the fire comes the still small voice – a voice, a sound like silence – this voice that is less than a whisper and yet not quite silence signals the presence of the divine.

He had to be still and he to be silent in order the know the Divine. He couldn’t rush it nor could he force it. It took patience and it took faith.

Now of course this is mythos. The one thing that has survived the 10,000 years that human society has been around are the stories the tales, the mythos, that we have shared, they are timeless. They move through time and can speak to we who live today, even though many were first told thousands of years ago. In many ways it is the stories and not the machines that connect the generations to one another. To me these are the perfect example of what it means to believe in the “Long Now Moment”. The stories connect us to the past, they connect us to the present and they connect us to the future and help us see how important it is that we leave a legacy for all who follow. The stories help us to create empathy for the other, the other not yet born that will live when we are dead and gone.

Everything matters, how we live now matters, just as how those who lived before us mattered. All life is connected and interconnected, past present and future. So how we live today will affect what is yet to come.

Let’s not just passively live in the short now, thinking only of ourselves and how we feel this moment. Let us extend our compassion beyond the confines of our little ego-centric worlds. Let’s think beyond the skin and walls we live in and develop compassion not only for those who live today but for the generations that are yet to come. Let us instead begin to live in the “Long Now” and expand our empathy and bring the moment that we live in fully alive, remembering all that came before and to build a legacy for those who follow, so that our lives will prove worth dying for by the legacies of love that we leave behind.

Lonely but not alone: Alone but not lonely

From "The Great Failure: A Bartender, A Monk, and My Unlikely Path to Truth " by Natalie Goldberg

A conversation between Natalie Goldberg on her Zen teacher about ways to deal with loneliness.

" 'Roshi, now that I am divorced, it is very lonely.'

" 'Tell me. What do you do when you are alone in the house?'

"I'd never thought of that. I became interested. 'Well, I water the plants,' I faltered, then continued, 'I wash a few dishes, call a friend.' The momentum built. 'I sit on the couch for hours and stare at the bare branches out the window. I play over and over Paul Simon's new album about New Mexico — I miss it there.'

"His attention encouraged me: 'Lately, I've been sitting at my dining-room table and painting little pictures.' I looked at him. Suddenly my solitary life had a texture.

" 'Is there anything wrong with loneliness?' he asked in a low voice. I shook my head. All at once I saw it was a natural condition of life, like sadness, grief, even joy. When I was sitting with him, it didn't feel ominous or unbearable.

" 'Anyone who wants to go to the source is lonely. There are many people at Zen Center. Those who practice deeply are only with themselves.

" 'Are you lonely?' I entreated.

" 'Yes,' he nodded. 'But I don't let it toss me away. It's just loneliness.'

" 'Do you ever get over it?'

" 'I take an ice-cold shower every morning. I never get used to it. It shocks me each time, but I've learned to stand up to it.' He pointed at me. 'Can you stand up in loneliness?'

"He continued, 'Being alone is the terminal abode. You can't go any deeper in your practice if you run from it.'

"He spoke to me evenly, honestly. My hunger was satisfied — the ignored little girl still inside me and the adult seeker — both were nourished.”

...We all experience loneliness from time to time...

Christmas and New Year is a very busy time for folk in my line of work, everything feels ramped up. I certainly spent a lot of time with people, doing and giving of myself. I also spent quite a bit of time socialising with others. This continued all of last week, up until Sunday night. As I went to bed on Sunday night I craved so much for solitude, to be alone. I awoke on Monday exhausted and feeling a little disconnected. I needed space to be alone, to connect with my God and thus allow myself to connect with others and life again. I was beginning to feel that inner loneliness that always comes when I’m exhausted or have spent too much time with others. Like most ministers I am an introvert in the Jungian understanding. I am the kind of person who re-energises from spending time in solitude. I tend to give my energy when in the company of others and recharge in solitude.

As I spent time in silent solitude that morning a phrase came into my being. It went something like this “Lonely but not alone: Alone but not lonely”

There have been times in my life when I have been surrounded by everyone I could have to be around and yet felt utterly alone. There have been other times when I have been physically alone and yet I experienced not one semblance of loneliness. Being alone and experiencing loneliness may look similar, but they could not be more different. One is about connection and the other disconnection.

John O'Donohue wrote beautifully about the importance of solitude in "Anam Cara". He wrote:

"Solitude is one of the most precious things in the human spirit. It is different from loneliness. When you are lonely, you become acutely conscious of your own separation. Solitude can be a homecoming to your own deepest belonging. One of the lovely things about us as individuals is the incommensurable in us. In each person, there is a point of absolute nonconnection with everything else and with everyone. This is fascinating and frightening. It means that we cannot continue to seek outside ourselves for things we need from within. The blessings for which we hunger are not to be found in other places or people. These gifts can only be given to you by yourself. They are at home at the hearth of your soul."

...John O'Donhue had a beautiful gift in the way he used language...  

January can often be the toughest months for many people. The joy and celebration of Christmas and New Year is over. Winter has set in and there seems only dark days and nights and cold ahead. It can be a time of isolation when we don’t spend much time with others. I remember how many times last winter I said “it’s been a long one this time”. For many folk this can feel like the loneliest time of year. It need not be so. If we utilise this time in the right way, it can actually help us to connect to those deeper harder to reach parts that can come to life when spring comes once again. I was thinking of this as Sue pointed to the bulbs just sprouting a little bit on the cold morning last Tuesday. They are creating life, ready to fully sprout in the cold dark earth. They need this time to come fully to life, just like we do. I bet those bulbs have never known the ache of loneliness.

Loneliness is something that everyone experiences at some time in their life. We need not fear it, I suspect it just a part of the human condition. That said it’s not something that you ever get used. It ought not to be feared, it does not mean that there is something wrong with us and it is not a terminal condition. Just talk and listen with your neighbour and you will find they have felt like this many times too.

There are many causes for this sense of loneliness. If we lose someone we love dearly, a spouse, a partner, a parent, a dear friend, that loss can lead a deep loneliness. We feel like something is missing in our lives, which of course there is, our loved one. If we suffer a debilitating illness we can often become cut off from social contacts, this can lead to a sense of isolation. When we move house or change jobs a loneliness can set in too, we feel like a fish out of water. Even the seemingly self confident can feel lonely at such times. When these things happen the mistake we can often make is to draw further in and isolate even more, thus increasing this sense of loneliness.

Now this experience of loneliness may not be as negative as we might realise, for it can lead to new opportunities. It offers a chance to connect to those often untouched parts within ourselves, to connect to those inner resources and of course it can help us to understand the loneliness that others suffer too. It develops empathy and help us connect with others in deeper more meaningful ways.

Loneliness is not the end of anything. It can actually be the beginning. It is an opportunity to see and experience life in new ways. It is call to ourselves to help alleviate the loneliness and suffering in others. It has the capacity to transform our lives. Loneliness need not be seen as an affliction, instead it is an opportunity to transform both your own life and that of others. As Dag Hammarskjold said 'Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.' "

Our experiences of loneliness can become a gift that can transform our lives and the lives of others.

The Epistle Paul had something interesting to say on loneliness in his timeless first letter to the Corinthians chapter 13. He wrote 'For now we see in a mirror, dimly (as through a glass, darkly), but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood.'

Here he is contrasting how we view life now with the life that will be enjoyed in what is called “God’s Kingdom, yet to come”. Suggesting that in our current state we do not see things clearly and that this is a cause of loneliness. The problem is that we do not see God, each other or life fully (‘face to face’) and thus we feel cut off, separate and alone. He is suggesting that only after death will we see fully. Paul is of course drawing on the Jewish tradition here, that no one can ever see the face of God, that it is always partially hidden behind a veil.

In the “Sermon on the Mount”, the moment where Jesus declares his mission in Matthew's Gospel, he says that, 'Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.' Suggesting a way to see clearly the face of God and thus one another. Could this be the bridge that relieves ours and others loneliness? This to me is what it means to create the Kingdom of God, what I prefer to name the “kin-dom of Love” right here right now. This is what it means to live spiritually alive. This is what it means to remove from our being the veils, mirrors, fears, fantasies, selfishness and unreality that separate us from the Divine, from life and the people around us thus relieving the ache of one another's loneliness.

The problem is, of course, that so few of us want to go there. How many of us want to experience what it means to be alone. We need not fear being alone. As my time alone proved last Monday. You can be “Lonely but not alone” and you can be, “alone but not lonely”.

Last Monday, as I sat alone in silence I found myself utterly surrendered to the power of the moment I was in. As I sat there the following poem by David's Whyte's came onto my being

“Sweet Darkness” by David Whyte

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone,
no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your home
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing.
The world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

...I do love David Whyte...

The line that sang in my heart was the following: “Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness…” 

So many people fear these two things, especially at this time of year "darkness and the confinement of our aloneness." The truth is that we need to experience this in order to truly connect with what is at the core of all being and to fully connect with life itself and the people we share our ives with. In so doing we see life as it really is and we begin to build that kin-dom of love, we live together one and all.

It is quite possible to be, “lonely but not alone” and you can find yourself completely “alone but not lonely”. The key is connection, connection to ourselves, to life, to the people around us and to whatever we believe is at the core of all life, what I call God. Sometimes it takes an experience of deep loneliness to allow us to know this, to see clearly.

Loneliness is something we will all experience in our lives. I bet we have all felt it at some time in the last week. The problem isn’t the feeling itself, but how we respond to it. It may well be an opportunity to connect. To connect to those deep places within us, to connect to the core of all life and to truly connect to one another. The problem is not the feeling of isolation and loneliness, but how respond to this experience.

We all feel lonely at times. Loneliness is the one thing that you are not alone in, feeling. May our shared loneliness lead us all to deeper connections.

The Christmas Guesthouse: Welcome them all in

I am often asked “What do you believe in?” Not an easy question to answer. I often say “I believe in everything and that little bit more than everything.” Now don’t get me wrong, as someone recently did, this does not mean that I approve of everything in life, but I do try not to deny things these days, the good and the bad and the less than beautiful. I also believe that there is something more, perhaps only a little more, than this material life. The trouble I have is in articulating this. I know some will say this this is a cop out, but I do not agree. It is honest and it is humble. I experience something more than my and I reckon others understanding, but the fact that I cannot articulate this does not make it any less real. I experience so much in this life that I accept I can never fully comprehend. When I accept this I experience that something more in ever more deep ans wonderful ways that are way beyond my imagining.

There are times in my life when I feel this more powerfully than others. These are often moments of trial and tribulation. I have felt it often this year, that said I also feel it almost as powerfully in moments of joy. The key, I have discovered, is to always remain open.

Rumi wrote:

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

The key, as Rumi taught is to welcome whatever gift comes, “ a joy, a depression, a meanness” Well this year I have welcomed them all in. This is the greatest gift of all that we are given in the experience that is human life. I have learnt the truth that if you do welcome them all in, then somehow you will experience more than you could have ever dreamed of.

We are fast approaching the moment of magic, the birth of love in life, the birth of joy to the world. I have noticed many guests this Advent. Many joys and many depressions. I know that all the spirits of Christmas have been alive and well in me throughout this Advent Seasons. I have felt them even more intensely this week. Monday was a wonderful example as I felt myself getting a little scrooge like during the day, as I got frustrated at trying to get everything done in time to get to Sue’s as we were going to “Home” cinema in Manchester, to see big screen viewing of “It’s a Wonderful Life”.

Well the film worked its magic. It got into those places that it needed to get deep into. It was beautiful to sit there with so many other people, the rest complete strangers and allow the magic to get deep into the core of my being. It opened me up, got deep into my soul as I relived so many feelings that I have felt this year and so many other times throughout my life. I was visited by all the spirits of this beautiful season, as I re-experienced many emotions. As we left I felt that once again something had changed deep within me.

My heart had been a guesthouse and I had welcomed them all and as a result something in me had changed. This truly is a wonderful life, but it is not one without pain and at times suffering. Something we all experience even at this time of joy and love. Do not be afraid to let them all in. Remember we are all in this boat together and everyone of us will be experiencing these many emotions, unless something deeply human has died within us.

We need to make room for it all and to welcome it in, I reckon that this is what the Christmas stories, whether they be ancient or modern, are about. There is something powerful and transformative in the mythos of all of them that help bring the spirit of the season alive, just when we need it the most. Well “It’s a Wonderful Life” did it for me again this week as I laughed and connected and spent the last half hour with tears rolling down my face as I remembered so many people who have touched my life, and experiences that have affected me deeply, all those  complex emotions I have felt throughout my life and once again this year, as I felt the true religion, that gets lost in the tinsel, the lights and the ever heavier traffic so often at this time of year. It opened me up once again and allowed me to let it all in. As a result I can now hopefully give it all out once again.

I was asked the other day what Christmas means to me. My first answer went something like this, well for me this season is about preparing each of us for the coming of hope that can be found in a humble birth of a lowly child in a lowly stable. That this is not about one birth though, but all births and not just about our physical birth, but that this is a spiritual birth that can come at any time and can continue as we journey on through our lives. If we open our hearts to it, if we welcome them in. The magic will come to life so long as we do not act like those inn keepers in the ancient Bethlehem story. The miracle will come so long as we say that there is in fact room in the inn. It is a story of a child born with incredible potential and yet who is rejected. Isn’t this a universal tale? Doesn’t it speak of all of us at times? There is more to the Christmas myth than the historical accuracy or inaccuracy of the Biblical accounts. In fact to get lost in detail of what did or didn’t actually happen is to miss the whole point of the story. It sounds as ludicrous as those medieval theologians who argued over how many angels could dance on the head of a pin. Is that what really matters? Surely there is more to the story than prosaic fact.

Remember that during this season we sing “Glad tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy” and not “glad tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact”

There is a deep universal truth hidden with these deep and meaningful stories. There is something “deep and crisp and even” in it all, if we would just open ourselves up to it all and welcome it all in.

The great mythologist Joseph Campbell taught that myths such as the nativity story are actually metaphors for human life. That they are eternal and universal tales that can teach us about our lives right here right now. He believed that by understanding these mysteries we can begin to understand who we truly are and what life is all about.

Carl Jung taught that these myths originate within our “collective unconscious”. He said that we each have a conscious level that we are aware of in our waking moments. Beneath this is our personal unconscious level, our closet. This is where we store memories, experiences, desires, fears, urges, compulsions etc. It is here that our personal “stuff” is stored, which from time to time we dip into. Some of this stuff is beautiful and some of it is terrifying. This is the domain of our devils and demons.

Jung also described our “collective unconscious”. This is our “collective closet” Jung uncovered common themes, symbols and motifs while working with his patients and he noticed that these same themes, symbols and motifs were also to be found in the religious stories and myths. From this he concluded that these common myths and stories are part of humanities “common closet”. These myths are drawn from a common human well of memory and thought and that they teach us about ourselves and the mysteries of existence. The problem today is that when we hear the word myth we equate it with an untruth, a lie, instead of seeing them as revealers of deeper universal truths. As Campbell observed to view them as lies is to actually get “stuck in the metaphor” and to fail to see the deeper universal truth that is being revealed.

As I sat in that cinema last Monday, with a load of strangers who were all connected in that shared experience, I know that all those levels were working in harmony and doing their magic. I know this because as I left the cinema I felt changed and I feel certain that others did too. So much of my experiences were brought back to life as I set there with others, it was a truly religious experience as my heart was opened once more as I was held with others and was able to let in every experience. It was very similar to times when I sit through a good worship service or are held through a funeral service. The challenge is to stay like this throughout my days, something I can never quite do, but then who can?

Christmas is not yet here. We still have a few days to open the mangers of our hearts and let all those guests in. No doubt we will sing some of these songs once again, or we will see a film or speak with an old friend or loved one. Perhaps we will attend another service of worship and come together with others and sing “glad tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, oh glad tidings of comfort and joy.”

So let’s invite everything in, lets believe in everything and in so doing experience and know that little bit more than everything. Come and join with me and make of your life a guesthouse where all can enter, where all are welcome to come as they are, exactly as you are…always remembering that none of us will ever leave in exactly the same condition…

Come Christmas come...and shine your holy light and bring to life that which is waiting to be born in the mangers of our hearts…

Our Rituals of Christmas Time

We are well and truly into Advent now, well into the festival of light at this the darkest time of the year. How are you doing? Are you in the spirit of the season or are you struggling a little. It can be a difficult time for some folk in so many ways. It’s just so easy to get lost in a variety of things. So much so that we fail to fully experience what this time of year is all about. We all have a bit of Scrooge within us do we not, we all have a little bit of “Bah Humbug”.

Christmas means different things to each and every one of us. Do you know what, it always has. People often cry that it’s not what it used to be. Well do you know what it used to be many years ago is not what it used to be many years before then. That said despite all the ever changing rituals and celebrations there does appear to be a universal spirit that has always existed. Do you know what the spirit has existed longer than the Christmas story and stories. Christmas is the ultimate Universal mythos of the heart.

For many people Christmas is a time of love and compassion of bringing to the surface our better selves. For others it is about family (however we understand family) coming together. For some it is about God’s Love incarnating perfectly in life, in the Christ child. For others it is the celebration of the end of winter and the coming of life and renewal in the spring time. I think it is all of this and a whole lot more. It seems to me that Christmas is the ultimate universal festival of the heart. It is a mixture of so many traditions and it has altered so much over time, embracing and incorporating so much of this simple spirit of light and love. Christmas is the ultimate festival of the heart, perfectly placed in the deep mid-winter when we need it the most.

As the years go by the meaning of Christmas has changed for me, as the meaning of life has. I suspect it means more to me today than it has ever done. Every year this meaning grows. Christmas is not just another day to me, in fact it has truly become a season, the season of the heart come to life. Religiously it means more to me too. As time as gone by I have connected more to the many and varied rituals of Christmas and there are many. Ok some may see these rituals as secular, but I am not convinced. I see the spirit at the heart of Christmas incarnating in all of them. I love Christmas, I truly do. I love it because it fills my heart with nostalgia, generosity and goodwill, it connects me to life, to God and to the people around me, it connects me to the past, to my ancestors and to those who touched my life, many who are no longer here. I shed many tears around this time of year. All this allows me to feel more alive. It opens up the present, the ultimate gift of life. The spiritual life is not about passively living in the moment, but truly bringing the moment to life.

Christmas is the heart of the year. Christmas is about Kairos time, not Chronos time. Time slows and our experiences thicken, if we allow them to. If we open our hearts truly to the spirit at work in the experiences. If we open our hearts to one another our relationships will deepen. What is more religious than this? For me to be religious is to increase our connections through they way we live our lives and to be spiritual is to increase our sensitivity, our experience of life.

An example of this are the many rituals that we all engage in each and every year. One example is going to buy a new tree, or fetching the artificial one from where ever we store it in the house. Getting out the decorations and placing them around the home. For so many people this connects us to our past and those who have touched our lives. There are so many memories tied up in these rituals. The memories will be mixed, as life is mixed, to misquote good old Moses “The blessings and curses of choosing life”. How many of us laugh and cry as we engage with these rituals and of course pass on the memories, rebind them, bring them to life, remember, reincarnate them. Isn’t this love incarnated. To me this is the very essence of religion.

Then of course there is the music, whether that be carols and carol singing or the many and numerous pop songs and classic songs from the old movies. For every service during December the congregations I serve insist on only singing carols and I’m with them all the way. The "pop" songs are no less religious, no less spiritual to me. They connect me to my past and those I’ve heard and sung these songs with and they help bring the moment more fully alive. They increase my experience of life too, they open my heart, they incarnate love. A taste of heaven.

Then of course there are the films, those great Christmas stories. For so many of us this is the heart of Christmas. What is your favourite? What film is at the heart of Christmas for you? I will be going to see a couple on the big screen in the next couple of weeks. It’s wonderful to go and see a classic film on the big screen and to do so in company, sharing that experience with folk that you love.

All these rituals to me are deeply religious and spiritual also. They connect us to one another, to life, that spirit at the heart of life, they connect us to our past and those who have touched our lives and they bring the gift of Christmas to life, the ultimate gift of Christmas, the present, the Christmas present. It truly increases our sensitivity to life itself.

Another universal quality is the journeying of Christmas. There is of course the "chronos" journey through the Advent season as we open our Advent Calendars and count down the days. There are the journeys to buy the gifts for loved ones. There is the journey to events and parties. There is the journey home also. Journeying is of course at the heart of the Christmas mythos. Whether that is the journey of the Holy Family of Joseph and Mary, carrying the Christ child in her womb on the road to Bethlehem, of the refusal and the rejection, of the magical birth and adorations and then of course having to flee for their lives, a journey we can all relate to in so many ways. Journey’s people have been travelling on for generations. Then of course there is the journey of the Magi, the wise men, who were called out to cross many lands in order to follow their bliss and bring gifts of love to the beloved.

These are journey’s of distance. But also journeys of depth. They are both "Chronos" and "Kairos" journeys. I will be doing some journeying over the next few weeks. As I am sure you will all be doing so too. They will be journey’s of hope and of sorrow, of joy and laughter and some pain. They will be religious journey’s and spiritual journey’s, journeys of the heart. Journey’s that will increase our sensitivity to life and deepen our connections to one another, to life, to our past, our present and the future. It will open our hearts and in so doing incarnate love here in our lives.

So let’s journey on through this Christmas season and truly open our hearts and engage in its spirit. May our hearts open wider, at this the heart of the year. May our experiences deepen as we remember to slow down as we rush through the business of our days May we know the true gifts of the season; gifts of love, compassion and acceptance. May we bring the spirit of the season alive and in so doing learn to make it Christmas in the days yet to come.

If we want to make it Christmas everyday, then we need to live by it spirit every single day...It is up to us...

Living your way into the answers

I have a love for detective stories. My favourite tv programs tend to involve mysteries and detection. As I child I was not a great reader of fiction and yet I loved Agatha Christie. Now don’t get me wrong I did read, just not fiction. I rarely read do even today. Why I am not wholly sure, I know I would benefit from doing so. That said when relaxing I do like to watch detective series, new and old. I’m just as happy watching “Murder She Wrote” as I am watching any of the high tech modern series. I’m just as happy watching Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes as I would be watching “The Code” Last year I fell in love with “The Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries”, which is a modern historical Australian series, set in the inter-war years, a kind of attractive and daring cross between Miss Marple and Jessica Fletcher. I also recently discovered a wonderful board game “Baker Street” based on Sherlock Holmes, myself and Sue had a lot of funny playing this a little while back. There is something in the searching for clues and answers and coming to conclusions that I suspect I love in these books, films and activities. I know I am not alone.

Now the thing I love about all these detective characters is that they pay attention. Yes they look for clues but the key is that they pay attention to the people around them. The classic example of this is of course Miss Marple. The key to her detecting was in her paying of attention and her simple down to earth understanding of people, which she had developed during her time growing up the village of St. Mary Mead. Her gift was to see things in seemingly unique ways and her ability to connect the details and stories together and relate them to people she had known during her long life. She would hear the details of a murder and say something like, “That reminds me of poor Mr or Mrs so and so …” And how this little problem that they had faced or had caused would be related to the murder. Miss Marple paid attention to people. She also paid attention to the world around her, connecting it all together. To me this is the key to spiritual living, to pay attention, to make connections and then to put them into practical application. To not merely ask questions of life but to see the connections. The key was not to merely ask questions and search for answers but to piece it together and live them as a conclusion in life. The key is to do as Rilke suggested “To live the questions” and in so doing you might just live your way into the answers. This is done in our very human and real lives; it is done by paying attention to one another and by paying attention to life.

One of the groups I host is “Living the Questions”. Each month we explore and attempt to bring to life the questions of truly living. It has been a joy and blessing to be part of this these last few years, it has certainly transformed me and I have witnessed this in others too. The inspiration for the group’s title come from a favourite passage from “Letters to a Young Poet” by Rainer Maria Rilke. In it the poet Rilke writes a letter to his protégé the 19 year old cadet and budding poet Franz Xaver Kappus making a beautiful case for the importance of not merely asking questions, but living them, while embracing uncertainty and allowing for the development of intuition.

Rilke wrote:

“I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing, live your way into the answer.”

To me this is what it’s about, to seek and struggle and to live the questions themselves. We need to do more than just ask the questions. You have to live the questions themselves you have to experience them and then somewhere in that struggle an answer may well be revealed, or maybe not. Either way I am convinced that by doing so we will live purposeful lives for the good of all.

If we can learn to not just ask, but live the questions now we might just perhaps one day in the future, almost without noticing it live our way into the answers. This though will only come in and through life itself, through paying attention to all around us, for all life is animated by the same spirit.

Now the one thing we don’t get to choose is what is going on around us. We can’t filter this, however much we try. To live the questions faithfully means paying attention to everything. This means facing not just the beauty of life but its ugliness too and wrestling with all the challenges this brings and then acting in appropriate ways. This is not easy, sometimes it can be deeply painful to face the whole truth of any given situation. You have to do it though if you wish to one day live your way into the answers. As the great twentieth century theologian Paul Tillich wrote “Being religious means asking passionately the questions of the meaning of our existence and being willing to receive answers, even if the answers hurt.”

Now living the questions, in the hope of one day you may live your way into the answers is not merely about logic, its not just about thinking your way into life. Actually if you live purely by your mind, your logic. you can miss so much. To live the question is a form of artful living, it is deeply creative in fact. My favourite detectives, usually the female ones all use intuition and emotion as an element of their questioning. Another favourite of mine is Leroy Jethro Gibbs from NCIS, who always uses his gut. To truly live the questions requires us to live fully in our bodies as much as our logical minds.

We Unitarians can sometimes be accused of being too logical and to disregard our intuition. I do not see this as a fair criticism. Yes we are encouraged to doubt and ask questions, but we are also encouraged to use our whole human experience and not to merely worship the mind as if it were God.

To truly live the questions and thus therefore one day hopefully live our way into the answers requires us to pay attention, to pay attention to everyone and then relate it our own experiences, like Miss Marple did. To find the answers she paid attention to life, to other people and to her own intuition. She lived her way into the answers by merely paying attention.

The problem is that paying attention is not always easy. It is easy to be distracted and sometimes it hurts too much to pay attention. It certainly does for me at times.

I noticed the other morning that I was paying attention. I noticed while sitting in meditation and then listening to others that life was touching me deeply and as a result my mind became clearer. I heard the language of the heart touch me deeply as people spoke and yet at the same time I could hear, clearly hear, all the sounds of life outside. I could hear the traffic, I could hear the dogs barking, I could hear the birds singing and I could hear the rain falling, as I did the words shared penetrated me more deeply. I listened to their questions and as I did I began to live my own and in doing so I knew I was on my way to live my way into the answers. And what is the answer you might ask? Well the answer is to pay attention, pay attention to everything. In so doing you will begin to live your way into the answers.

Lost and Found

I ended my last "blogspot" with the following words by Mark Nepo

I keep looking for one more teacher, only to find that fish learn from water and birds learn from sky.
If you want to learn about the sea, it helps to be at sea.
If you want to learn about compassion, it helps to be in love.
If you want to learn about healing, it helps to know of suffering.
The strong live in the storm without worshipping the storm.

Mark Nepo

Now don’t we all feel at sea at times, Tossed around by the storms of life. The storms are not life by the way, but they are part of life.

I have felt myself at sea many times in my life; I have done so at times these last few months too; my mind has not been as clear as it could be at times. I have noticed I’ve got a little lost at times and I have lost things at times. My services have not been at the standard I would have liked too. I’ve also felt more tired than usual. Now there are obvious reasons for this as I have been experiencing deep grief and concern for my nearest and dearest. We are hoping that some healing will come now as last week we attended our Daniel’s (my step-brother’) inquest in Bradford. It was a deeply painful day. We held one another as we listened and bore witness. I also felt so powerfully, as powerfully as I have ever done, that loving presence holding us as we lived in the storm, but did not worship it. Something has changed, or do I mean awakened within me since Tuesday.

I have felt lost at sea quite a bit these last few months, it has changed me, but then it ought to. Living spiritually is not about transcendence, it is about transformation, formation, reformation. I feel that I know the sea more intimately than before and therefore feel better able to help my fellow travellers who from time to time, will get caught up in the storm and feel all at sea. We do not sail the ship alone, we travel in the ship of love together, as one and never alone.

I remember during a theme talk at this years Summer School one of the speakers stating something like. “Do not worry if you lose your car, that isn’t the problem. You are in trouble only when you forget that you have a car.” Well last week I thought I’d lost my car, I hadn’t I’d just parked on a different street than I thought near to Sue’s new house. I did though feel that horrible sensation in the pit of my stomach I have felt it a little too frequently in recent weeks. I thought I was losing my mind a little, I wasn’t I was just experiencing what it feels like to be lost. It humbled, it grounded me and it helped me to connect. It certainly brought down any of those barriers I am tempted to put up from time to time.

All you've got to do is surrender...

I have noticed, over time, a large collection of lost items appearing in the small schoolroom at Dunham Road. Items like scarves and hats and gloves and sunglasses and ordinary glasses. It is hard to know what to do with them, perhaps we need a “lost and found” box. I always remember such things as a child. I remember leaving something important on a bus and two or three days later getting it back as it was handed in and kept in the lost and found box. The same thing happened at the gym a few months ago as I had left my spare pair of glasses there on the Friday and only realised it when I returned on the Monday. Well there they were, a few days later, in the lost and found box. Sadly the same thing didn’t happen with my watch and then a little later my wallet when I left it in the post office after buying stamps. At least I remembered I had them and had lost them of course, now if I'd forgotten I had a watch or wallet that would have signified real trouble.

I find something deeply reassuring in the fact that “lost and found” are paired together. There is something very powerful  in the journey of faith in their pairing. There is something beautifully paradoxical in all of this. A bit like Nepo’s line, “If you want to learn about the sea, it helps to be at sea.” Gets me to think that if you want to be found you have to first of all get lost. It is the “Hero’s Journey”.

If I have learnt anything in life, and this year has taught me this once again and more deeply, it is that the problem isn’t whether or not we will get lot at times, the question is how will we live when we get lost. Now of course the first step towards finding my way again is to recognise, first of all, that I am lost. This doesn’t necessarily mean literally lost, but lost in myself, whether that be lost in fear, self-doubt, self-pity, basically lost in my own underpants.

When I am lost in myself and find myself truly “all at sea” I find that what has really happened is that I’ve separated myself once again from what I know to be true, about what is at the heart of me and the heart of life and have blinded myself to the light both within and without and I have once again walled myself in and I begin to feel alone and utterly lost. I have cut myself off from others and the love present in life. In such a state I can really do damage to myself and or others. I have done so in the past. I know that this is exactly where our Daniel had found himself, this is clear to me right now as anything has ever been. I know when I am lost, all at sea, internally, I find myself giving in to guilt, to loneliness and defensiveness. While externally I will begin to blame others for this sense of "lostness", resentment grows as does confusion in others. Don’t we all?

So when I find myself lost, how do I once again find myself? How do I go and look in that “lost and found” box of life? Well it begins, as it did when I left that important item on the bus at the age of 11 or when I lost my glasses recently. First of all I pause and then I ask for help. I ask for help internally and externally and do you know what if life has taught me anything it is that when you ask for help so many people always come rushing. As I have heard said many times, when trouble strikes, when horror and disaster strikes always look for the helpers. When you do it shows the love that is so present in humanity. It restores my faith once again.

I am most lost when I’m uptight and frightened. They key to being found is to lighten and loosen up. It requires patience and trust, perhaps the best qualities of faith. When a person is all it sea it is no use to thrash around, you need to be calm, take a breath and solutions usually come, usually you find yourself found. Sometimes you get rescued as someone else reaches through your defences with a kind word and or gentle touch and sometimes all it needs is a gentle word of encouragement and you can once again find your way back to shore.

Here is a rather lovely poem “The Way” by Edwin Muir

Friend, I have lost the way.
The way leads on.

Is there another way?
The way is one.

I must retrace the track.
It’s lost and gone.

Back, I must travel back!
None goes there, none.

Then I’ll make here my place –
The road runs on –

Stay here, forever stay.
None stays here, none.

I cannot find the way.
The way leads on.

Oh, places I have passed!
That journey’s done.

And what will come at last?
The way leads on.

Now of course sometimes when you feel lost you aren’t actually as lost as you think. What you are is actually in a place you would rather not be. I have felt that at times these last few months and I have certainly done so for my nearest and dearest. Acceptance has felt distant at times, but eventually it comes and you accept that you are where you are. This is beautifully illustrated in the following bit of wisdom form my old favourite Mulla Nasruddin

Nasruddin was sat on a river bank when someone shouted to him from the opposite side:
“Hey! how do I get to the other side?”
To which Nasruddin replied “You are on the other side!”

We are all always on the opposite side of the river to the other riverbank.

“If you want to learn about the sea, it helps to be at sea.” To be found you have to first of all get lost. I have learnt that it is important to be lost at times.

Whether any of us like it or not, we all find ourselves on the wrong river bank at times, not knowing how to get to the side we would like to. We all find ourselves in an uncertain place, lost and without guidance. We all feel lost at times. By the way we don’t really get lost in the woods and wilderness. Life isn’t really like the fairy tales although they can help us see the reality. These stories have a way of revealing reality through their beautiful mystery.

This brings to mind a rather beautiful poem “Afraid So” by Jeanne Marie Beaumont

Is it starting to rain?
Did the check bounce?
Are we out of coffee?
Is this going to hurt?
Could you lose your job?
Did the glass break?
Was the baggage misrouted?
Will this go on my record?
Are you missing much money?
Was anyone injured?
Is the traffic heavy?
Do I have to remove my clothes?
Will it leave a scar?
Must you go?
Will this be in the papers?
Is my time up already?
Are we seeing the understudy?
Will it affect my eyesight?
Did all the books burn?
Are you still smoking?
Is the bone broken?
Will I have to put him to sleep?
Was the car totaled?
Am I responsible for these charges?
Are you contagious?
Will we have to wait long?
Is the runway icy?
Was the gun loaded?
Could this cause side effects?
Do you know who betrayed you?
Is the wound infected?
Are we lost?
Will it get any worse?

We all feel lost at times, all at sea. I have re-learnt how important that is. It keeps you connected to life and allows you to grow, to be transformed. This is the point of the spiritual life. This year I have learnt once again about vulnerability. Everyone of us is vulnerable to the troubles of life. No matter how comfortable life might be at this moment that can be quickly shaken and all can be lost. That phone call can come, that changes everything, that breaks your heart.

The problem isn’t getting lost, we all get lost at times. The problem is in losing faith that you can be found once again. The key is how we live when we find ourselves lost. Do we close down and get lost deeper in our fear, or do we pause and reach out and ask for help from those loving forces that are all around whether visible or invisible.

I’m going to end this "blogspot" with one final poem, a favourite by David Wagoner that goes by the title “Lost”

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.