Tuesday, 1 October 2019

The Colour Of Love


 Some people are born colour-blind. They can't see the difference between red and green for example. Colours are muted and drab. The richness of vision that most people take for granted is unknown to them - the luscious green grass or the beautiful blue of a summer sky. Recently special lenses have been developed which cleverly demark the boundaries of colour frequencies so that some colour-blind people can see in full colour for the first time. If you haven't seen the YouTube clips of people putting these glasses on for the first time, you should watch. It is very moving. It is life-changing.

There is another sort of colour-blindness that is less well understood, because it's the colour of love that goes unseen. Once you know this colour you can see it everywhere - in the sun and the wind, in trees and flowers, in the faces of the people you meet. It is life-changing. Some of the things that used to seem so important no longer matter. Little things do matter: a kind word, a helping hand. Jesus described it as like finding treasure in a field. In the end it's the only thing that counts. In the Gospel of Thomas, Jesus says the Kingdom of God is spread out upon the Earth but people don't see it.


So how do you get glasses that reveal the colour of love? It's not that easy, and there's a price to be paid. You could compare it to when Neo gets ejected from the Matrix. In every case I can think of, a person's life has had to be unplugged from the system in some way. Some may actually die for a few minutes before being revived; some may lose everything they had; some may renounce normal life for holy orders; some escape common reality using hallucinogenic drugs. Even then, you still have to really want it. Seek and you will find.

The choice is yours:the red pill or the blue one.


Monday, 20 May 2019

A Good Death

(attribution unknown; included under Fair Use provision)

Kathryn Mannix said: “There are only two days with fewer than twenty-four hours in each lifetime, sitting like bookmarks astride our lives; one is celebrated every year, yet it is the other that makes us see living as precious.”

In the film of the same name, Shirley Valentine stays on after her holiday in Greece, but as a waitress not a holidaymaker. A holiday needs an end or it is not a holiday, just another day. In the same way a life on Earth must have an end if it is to be worth living. Good people, like a good book, should have a happy ending. It is the job of hospices to ensure as far as possible that those with terminal illnesses have a good death.

What a wonderful thing the hospice movement is. Thanks to the skill and care of the doctors and nurses who work in palliative care, patients nearing the end of their lives can spend their days in comfort and pleasant surroundings, in a friendly environment. So they may arrive at the point where they have taken care of business, settled their outstanding grievances, said goodbye to family and friends, and are ready to make the transition to the next level of reality.

A hospice close to where I live has just launched a joint scheme with a nearby major hospital to provide volunteer visitors for those about to die, and whose family or friends cannot be with them all the time - or not at all; I am privileged to be one of those volunteers. The benefits of this scheme are three-fold: first, it frees up the nursing staff to attend to other patients without having to monitor the dying one; second, it allows family members to leave the bedside for meals or to rest, knowing that they will be called immediately if required; third, and most importantly, the patient feels that they haven’t been left alone to die.

One of the saddest calls I took when I was with with a well-known crisis helpline, was from a woman with no family, dying alone at home. She didn’t like to think of her body lying unattended for weeks before being discovered. I felt strongly that it was morally wrong, in any society at any time, that the old and sick should be allowed to end their days alone and uncared for. I still feel the same way. The Compassionate Companions scheme I have described here will help to address this issue.

Dorothy House Hospice

I started by praising the hospice movement. You may ask, why do we need hospices when we already have good hospitals? In a nutshell, hospices are there for the dying, hospitals are for the living. Hospitals are geared towards keeping people alive and making them better. They don’t always succeed but they will try their hardest. Dr. Christopher Kerr said: “If you have an aversion to dying, medical school is a pretty safe place to be. They never mention dying.”

Having said that, things are changing, in the UK at least. In the last twenty years, palliative care in our hospitals has taken a great leap forward. Specific pain relief and symptomatic treatment often means that a patient can remain conscious and relatively comfortable even as their health declines. I hope that will also help the rest of us who still have lives ahead of us - to know that death is nothing to be afraid of.


Saturday, 1 December 2018

Missing him


Today I was trying to think of a book I could read to a 14-year-old boy that I know, who is making a slow recovery in hospital. Then I remembered a book I had read at 14, a cracking yarn by ‘Charles’ (in reality Elfrida) Vipont called “The Heir of Craigs”.

I had always kept that book and despite the fact that I had not read it in fifty years, I could still see the cover clearly in my mind’s eye. When I went to get it however, there was no trace of it. Somehow, at some point, some house move maybe, I must have let it go. How could I do that? It was a part of my history, almost a part of me you could say. I felt a sense of loss – I no longer had this book that I hadn’t looked at in half a century.

There was no other way. Within half an hour I had found a second-hand copy in good condition with my favourite on-line bookseller, Abebooks, and soon it will be back with me once again, and I can breathe a sigh of relief.

If only you could do that with people.

In this last July I attended the funeral of my younger brother. It was a good funeral, the church was full and I delivered his eulogy without a hitch. A great gathering of friends and family was held at his favourite pub, and we all went home feeling we had given him the best send-off he could have hoped for. I carried on with my life and all was well. Actually he had lived 150 miles away and we only saw each other at very irregular intervals so his passing didn’t really change very much for me.

Last week, on a grey and blustery day, my older brother and sister, my deceased brother’s fiancĂ©e and his closest two friends gathered at the harbour a short drive from where he lived, and watched as his mortal remains rested briefly on the surface of the water before disappearing beneath the waves. It was an intimate moment, which brought us all together in a mutual bond of sorrow.

Now that the brother I rarely saw is gone, I miss him, and there is no replacement. He was the only one. His presence on the planet had been sufficient, just knowing he was there, and now he isn’t. I suppose if there’s one comforting thought that comes from all this, it’s that, hard as it may be to imagine this, other people probably think the same about me as I do for my brother. I hope my presence is on the whole a good one.

Sunday, 26 August 2018

Respect!


"Respect" by Aretha Franklin, who died ten days ago.

You may have heard it said when you were a child: "Respect your elders". Later in your life you might have heard people say "Respect has to be earned". So, who's right? And wouldn't you like to be shown a little respect from time to time? Respect seems to be in short supply these days.

Respect comes in different colours. You can respect someone for what they've done; for example you might respect a person for saving a life, even if you know nothing else about them. You can respect someone for who they are, whether that's Nelson Mandela, the Dalai Lama, or Kofi Annan. You may show respect for the law: policemen, judges and so on. Perhaps you respect your parents, or perhaps not. But surely respect should be mutual. Policemen should also respect you; a father should respect his children. A teacher should respect the pupils - even the 5 year-olds - especially the 5 year-olds. Have you ever seen a parent cursing and swearing at their young child in a shop? Isn't that one of the saddest, most shameful and cowardly abuses that a grown man or woman can inflict on a young life?

Respect can be won; respect can also be lost. That feeling, when someone you looked up to, someone you aspired to be like, your own personal hero, lets you down, it's as if the ground you stood on crumbles beneath you, your hope is shattered and you start to question whether there is any good thing left in the world to believe in.

There is only one thing worse than losing respect for someone who meant something special to you, and that is losing respect for yourself. If you can't respect yourself, no-one else is going to. The Staples Singers had it right: "If you don't respect yourself / Ain't no-one gonna give a good cahoot". Losing your self-respect is like removing the foundations from a building; it's only a matter of time before the whole edifice comes crashing to the ground. It's no wonder that these two great songs "Respect" and "Respect Yourself" were both sung by gospel singers (Aretha Franklin and Mavis Staples). They both knew how, growing up in poor black neighbourhoods, their self respect was about the only thing that couldn't be taken away from them.

"A little respect (just a little bit)" - can go a long way towards making life better for all of us.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us."
Marianne Williamson

"Respect Yourself" by The Staples Singers

Thursday, 12 April 2018

A Change Is Gonna Come


It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centres of energy and daring those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.
Robert F Kennedy









Image:Robert F. Kennedy appearing before Platform Committee, August 19, 1964.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4524203


This is my third attempt. It’s so important I can’t mince words. A big change will come and it will be good but it is so big that no-one can fully imagine it.

For too long we have shambled along, muddling by. Our great stores of wisdom, the great religions, have forgotten their meaning and just repeat the same old patterns without knowing why. They have been used as tribal totems, banners to fight under, when they were made for peace. But still they gave a voice to men and women of goodwill and if their ways were mildly eccentric it didn’t really matter.

That’s all changed.

We are so arrogant, we think we’re so clever, as we preside over poisoned seas, polluted air, extinction of species, destruction of the rainforest, floating continents of plastic waste, global warming, poverty, war, mass migration and more. Faced with such monumental challenges we indulge in our own personal grievances and petty squabbles while nothing gets done. Time is not on our side.

We simply do not have the luxury of shillyshallying any longer. We will have to unite. The basic principle of the major religions is this: that if we truly care for each other without preference or prejudice, and if we truly care for the earth and all its plants and animals, we can have happy, fulfilling lives and there will be peace and plenty for all. That’s it. All the rest is embroidery. If we can all come together under these principles and set aside our minor differences, then we can start rebuilding our broken world.

All the old arguments about whether God exists now become obsolete. The question never made sense anyway. True belief cannot be contained in words; it has to be expressed in the way we live our lives. This belief-in-action is something everyone can share in. It’s simply a question of working together for the common good.

Everyone has a part to play in making our new world. We are all here for a reason. Some may be called to become martyrs for the cause, there will be activists, but there will also be a need for artists, poets, flower arrangers and people who sweep the floor. The one thing they will all have is a belief in a better world, and a burning desire to make it happen. They will be guided by a love of this beautiful world with its lands and seas, its plants and animals, and all of its diverse and beautiful people.

As Robert Kennedy said: “There are those that look at things the way they are, and ask why? I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?”

It can be done, whether in our lifetime or our children’s or great-grandchildren’s, it can be done. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Take that step.

Take that first step - ask yourself: What is the unique gift that I can offer to the world? Then see what happens next.

Wednesday, 21 March 2018

Don't kiss the statue!

Source: IMDB.com

While it is good to do what you love, problems can arise when you love what you do.

Yesterday I watched a scene from the film “My Fair Lady”, starring Rex Harrison and Audrey Hepburn. The film is a reworking of Bernard-Shaw’s play “Pygmalion”, in which Prof. Henry Higgins turns a Cockney flower-girl called Eliza into a society beauty, and then begins to fall in love with her.

Incidentally this reminds me of when I was at school in Greenwich and went in for a race. When I went to report my position, I was rather taken aback when the prefect shouted “NINE”! I was unsure how to answer this, until a teacher helped me out: “He wants to know your NAME”. What has this to do with My Fair Lady? Prof Higgins lives in Mayfair, which sounds like “My Fair”, when Eliza says it.

Perhaps if I had loved the work of my hands as much as the mythical sculptor Pygmalion, I might have done better at school. The danger comes from loving your work too much. Then you become the slave of your own creation, and it makes a mockery of your life.

What happens if your work is taken away from you? If you’re strong, like Doris Day, who trained from an early age to be a dancer then broke her leg in an accident, you reinvent yourself and start again. If you’re not so gifted, life loses its meaning. Too many people have not lived past their first year of retirement. We should get to know ourselves now, not our job, not what we do, but who we really are. We should find out now while there is still time.

If the prophets and the sages are right and there is a Heaven waiting for us, we will not be spending eternity catching the 7.21 train to the office, or waiting at tables. We will be our true selves, freed from the bondage of work. But why wait until then? We may have to work to live, but we should not live to work.

Tuesday, 2 January 2018

It's raining again




Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
Telling me just what a fool I've been
I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain
And let me be alone again

-John Gummoe

As I sit here in my living room, party balloons pinned to the ceiling, Christmas tree standing merrily in the window - outside, the steady rain pours down from a cold grey sky and the whole world seems shrouded in gloom.

In these latitudes rain is always miserable. In songs llike the one above, in expressions like ‘a grey day’ or ‘a wet weekend’, we are always wishing it would go away. “Rain rain go away, Come again another day” we used to sing as children.

Yet we should be glad of the rain. When I worked as a language teacher in Arabia, rain was a rarity. The weather was pretty much always the same, i.e. solid sun out of a deep blue sky from dawn to dusk every day. When the rain did come however, it was like drowning on land. Traffic stopped, the roads filled with water, people fled to the nearest shelter they could find. But the young children ran outside, shouting, laughing and dancing, splashing in the puddles, their heads lifted back to feel the rain streaming down their faces.

My horoscope for today tells me that this is a day to go out and succeed in my chosen field. Apparently I am full of energy and enthusiasm, with the full force of the planets urging me on. But actually all I want to do is watch the raindrops running down the window and think of all the things I could have done better. Rain always trumps stars.

The meterological forcast is frequently more accurate than the astrological one. It tells me that in three days time the rain will clear up and we shall see some sunshine. Then doubtless I shall feel upbeat and positive, ready to take on and conquer the world, although perhaps by then my horoscope will warn me to be careful. All this goes to show is that my moods come and go just like the weather, while life goes on much the same. So today I’m going to enjoy being sad, and if you don’t like it, come back in three days’ time. I’ll still be here.