Beautiful Interruptions

We’ve just spent a fortnight in the amazing city of Edinburgh. The city is crowded with tourists, locals, performers and Fringers like us. For me these teeming streets exhale inspiration. Anything is possible. Thousands of people have crafted their shows, ready to entertain, shock and enthral. The creativity seems to ooze out of bodies and buildings, just waiting for bystanders to absorb.

We make a point of travelling down the Royal Mile (even though it can be at a slow and frustrating pace) because there are so many opportunities to chat with strangers. This is not something we generally do back in our home town (although I think we’re getting better) but it is something we look forward to as part of our Fringe Festival experience.

This year we met a girl called Alice, she was performing in two shows and we ended up talking to her for quite a while. We heard about some of her previous Edinburgh experiences, the tour of her show in Australia, her boyfriend and of course the shows she was promoting at the festival. We ended up going to both of her shows and enjoyed them. I happened to bump into her again on our penultimate day in the city. She was delighted to see me and keen to discover what other shows we had enjoyed. She then excitedly shared with me that her boyfriend had proposed and they were now engaged. She then thrust her hand with the ring in my direction. There is something both beautiful and intimate sharing moments like these with complete strangers.

Yeats wrote ‘There are no strangers here, only friends you haven’t yet met.’

A stranger we have befriended (some might say stalked) since our first visit to the Edinburgh Festival was performing his seventh fringe show. We were thrilled to discover his show had sold out both times we tried to see it. It meant a lot that he arranged to get us in anyway.

The atmosphere and the fact that a number of people are trying to get your attention (to give you their flyers) means it is easy to start up conversations. I know I find this much more difficult back at home. I am convinced that it is worth making the effort locally as these moments shared with strangers will be treasured just as much as the shows we have loved this year.

We’ve been trained to be wary of strangers and to obey public transport etiquette: eyes down, only speak when absolutely necessary. As a result we miss out on little joy moments in our day. These bring happiness to others too. One guy, handing out flyers, would start his patter ‘Hi, how are you?’ when we responded by asking how he was, he was taken aback and said ‘no one normally asks how I am.’

I am as guilty as the next person for rushing through life, particularly on journeys whether it’s walking or on public transport. We’re reminded to stop and smell the roses but there are people out there too; people who would love to be acknowledged and receive a smile. All too often we can feel invisible amongst a sea of faces. When someone smiles or takes the time to say a few words we feel acknowledged and connected. It is the start of community to acknowledge and recognise the people around you. It feels strange that a city has become another home to me. Even though it is 380 miles away and I have never actually lived there, it holds a piece of my heart. I think part of the reason is conversations with strangers. Even though they, like me, may not be locals, our shared experiences in the same location create a temporary community.

So next time you’re out and about or waiting in a queue, try starting a conversation with a stranger. Who knows where it could lead?

The Heart of the Matter

‘Love isn’t a memory. It’s so much more than that. Love is a world of it’s own that lives in the heart not the head.’ (Spencer, Criminal Minds)

During Mental Health Awareness week I came across a questionnaire by the Mental Health Foundation for assessing a person’s mental health. It was a series of statements that required a response as to how much you agreed with that statement over the last two weeks. Two of the statements in the questionnaire are ‘I’ve been feeling useful’ and ‘I’ve been feeling close to other people’. The isolation that comes from not feeling these two statements is deep and all too common.

We live in communities, physically close but failing to truly connect. Recent experiences of tube travel etiquette demonstrated this reality to me. The carriage becomes more and more crowded but interaction with fellow passengers is to be avoided at all costs. All too often we carry ourselves around protecting our inner selves with fake smiles, make-up and busyness while our inner-self wanders through life unsatisfied, cold and alone.

It’s great that so many are breaking the silence that surrounds mental health. It’s even better when someone struggling with their mental health is able to say so and is met with a response of love and acceptance. These declarations often occur once the individual is feeling robust. Their self-disclosure happens on a ‘good’ day when they feel that can deal with the responses that may come their way. What about the less good days? What about the ‘mean reds’? Many who suffer from depression or anxiety say that accepting them for who they are in their suffering makes a huge difference.

The quotation from Criminal Minds was part of a conversation between a mother and a son discussing her Alzheimers. The mother is worried that soon she will not remember her love for her son. He responds to her worries. Spencer’s conclusion is that love lives in the heart not the mind so their love will be unaffected by Alzheimers. All too often we feed on the stuff going on in our minds rather than on the truths and experiences of our hearts.

Our human experience is often a litany of hurts, rejections and failures. As children we learn the rhyme ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me’. The truth is often the words do greater and longer lasting damage than sticks or stones could ever do. Our words and actions have a profound impact. Having read the responses of some who regularly suffer from mental health problems, it was encouraging to learn that regular responses of love, understanding and acceptance did make a difference.

We have an amazing tool at our disposal – words and acts of love. Enabling another to feel useful, creating a memory and atmosphere of closeness could make a world of difference, not just to those suffering with mental illness but to anyone’s mental wellbeing. It may be a simple as telling someone you are here for them. It could be as grand as planning a special treat for someone. This is not love in a gooey romantic sense but love as Aristotle described it. He said, ‘to love is to will good to another for the other’s sake’.

I plan to keep taking steps towards acts of love for the good of the other. I choose to dwell on the experiences of my heart rather than the doubts and questions of my mind.

Be More Teen

‘Good habits formed at youth make all the difference.’ Aristotle

Teenagers get a bad press: selfish, loud, moody, aggressive, messy, irresponsible - the list could go on. The reality is more complex than this. Teenagers often express total contradictions: intense and playful, sensitive and thoughtless, dreamers and doers. Interestingly, many of these attributes are essential for creativity.

Over the last few weeks, for various reasons, I have been thinking back to my school days and teenage years. This has not always been a pleasant exercise – school was not my favourite place to be. I can remember making myself sick in order to stay at home. I experienced bullying at both primary and secondary school. The walk down memory lane was not a journey for re-living these experiences. I was looking for my best moments, the times when I felt truly alive.

‘Adolescence is a new birth, for the higher and more completely human traits are now born.’ 

G. Stanley Hall.

 As adults, if we think about reliving our teenager years it is associated with bad taste. Whether it’s clothes or hairstyles, buying the fast car we dreamed of owning or attending an event where some tribute band are playing the tunes you rocked out to, there is the memory of freedom perhaps even rebellion.

I’ve been searching for the lost and forgotten dreams. The activities that made me feel free. These teenager years are often referred to as our formative ones because they are so crucial to creating the person we are today. When I look back there are definitely passions or capabilities that I have forgotten. These have been overlooked or discarded because the responsibilities of adulthood have taken over.

A simple example that I rediscovered recently was the joy of being on a swing. I was in someone else’s garden and there at the bottom was a huge tree, from it dangled a swing. The sun was out and the garden was bathed in spring-time glory but more than the comfy looking bench, the walk through a woodland area or the beauty of the flowers themselves, it was the swing that called out to me. Tentatively, I asked permission to sit and swing. (I had thought perhaps it was just for children). I was greeted with surprise and then a smile ‘Of course you can use the swing!’ So I indulged, gently at first and then with greater abandon. My eyes took in the garden from an entirely new view-point and then I closed them, enjoying the tingle of not knowing exactly where I was going.

I have taken some time to think back, to make a list and consider what was and what has been lost. Some of what I have rediscovered has affirmed my current choices. Others have been surprises and encouragements to try forgotten activities and reclaim passions that have been dormant.

As I look back, time and friendships appear to be different. Now, I make appointments to meet up with friends and usually they involve some kind of plan; dinner, drinks, cinema etc. Then, everything seemed more fluid (this may be poor remembering on my part) but there were definitely times of just ‘hanging out’ no plans, no agenda except to spend time with my friend. Sometimes the best times were those unplanned ones.

Time is a gift. It is up to us to decide what we will do with it. This is easier said than done and even with all my ‘flexible’ time, I am still learning about time management. Prioritising the important is my new habit. I now block out periods of time in advance so that they can be devoted to something I do not feel I have enough time for. I physically do it in my diary and I am finding it works. My husband and I have done the same for time together too. Nothing is to infringe on that time without permission from the other. There is no agenda for these times together and I think that is part of what makes them really special.

‘It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.’ E. E. Cummings

What passion or skill has been dormant since your teenage years?

How could ‘hanging out’ with no agenda benefit your relationships?

What activity would you like to try to recapture that feeling of youthful freedom?

P.S. The novel is progressing (slowly) and I will shortly be introducing you to my new blog project, so watch this space.....

Just Say No!

‘Just say no’ was the mantra used by my school as part of our drugs education. In my experience there is no ‘just’ about it. Saying no is difficult and requires courage.

Aristotle lists courage as an important virtue that people should try and develop. Fear is often seen as the opposite of courage, but Aristotle believed that there are things we should fear. One example he gives is fearing the loss of a good reputation. So fear in and of itself is not the antithesis of courage. Aristotle created the idea of the Golden Mean; this is the midway point between two vices. In the case of courage he believes that we need to find the point between cowardice (the deficiency of courage) and rashness (the excess of courage). In Ancient Greece the ultimate way of showing courage was in battle; to die in battle or to overcome the enemy was the highest honour.

Desmond Doss’ real life story is portrayed in the film Hacksaw Ridge. Here is a man who is willing to die for his country but is unwilling to take up a weapon to do so. He is labelled a coward and thought to be insane but he continues to stay true to his beliefs. There is a point in the film where he is given an ultimatum; to obey his commanding officer and show how a gun works or go to prison. He agonises over the choice as it is his heart’s desire to serve his country but he wants to remain true to his convictions. While watching his anguish, I am willing him to say ‘yes’ to the command, to just show them he knows how to use a gun. Then he’ll get his opportunity to serve as a medic on the front line. He refuses. I won’t tell you what happens next but his story is powerful one of courage and being true to yourself.

Often I think of being courageous as saying ‘yes’ to things; facing a fear, trying something new, making the most of an opportunity but lately I am finding that sometimes it takes courage to say ‘no’. I saw a wise friend of mine this week who had had to give up a number of activities where she was being successful for personal reasons. The time came when she was able to return to the things she had previously been involved in. Rather than picking up where she had left off, she felt a strong sense that she should just do one of those things. It was a hard decision because she loves to say ‘yes’ and she was really good at all the projects still available to her. Since then, she told me that her ability in the one activity she said yes to has increased and she can see this was the best and wisest choice for her.

I like to say ‘yes’ and with a more flexible timetable it is so tempting to do so, but I have felt challenged this week about whether I am saying ‘yes’ to the right things. I often see the need and think ‘Ooh, I could do that and if I don’t perhaps no one else will.’ I wonder how often I’ve trampled on someone else’s opportunity in order to add another ‘string to my bow’. My willingness to volunteer, to say ‘yes’ stems from compassion but underneath that lies the desire to be noticed, to have purpose. There’s a fear within me that if I don’t put my hand up, I will not be seen. Ultimately I fear not being loved.

So I am attempting to be courageous, to pick through the things I am currently doing and ask the question ‘Is this the right thing for now?’ This is just the first step, the harder part will be saying ‘no’ and letting go of the things that are not meant for me.

 

Have you experienced choices when it has been hard to say ‘No’? What happened?

What do you think is the greatest expression of courage?

Waiting For Wisdom

What if every test of endurance is less about achieving the goal and more about gaining experience and as a result, wisdom?

I’ve been back in the garden recently and what looked dead is now slowly coming back to life. If I only looked for the flowers or the fruit, I would miss so much of the beauty of the whole process. Tiny buds of potential, bright green shoots fighting their way through the heavy, wet earth reveal that although the big picture is still stripped bare, closer to the surface there is a lot going on and there is still more than my eyes don’t see.

I’m beginning to see the same is true for you and me. We spend so much time focused on the ‘fruit’, the goal that we miss the process. I have begun to question; what if there’s no ‘fruit’ – no creative community built through mindfulness and art – no published book. Would it still be worth it? I am beginning to conclude that the answer is ‘Yes!’ It will be worth it because of all the new relationships that are being forged, all the new things I am learning. It will be worth it for the experience.

Gaining experience is the focus of many advertising campaigns, often it seems with the purpose of allowing us to post the gratifying photo on Facebook.  But experience has a more profound purpose than becoming an anecdote on our Twitter feed; experience takes us deeper into the human condition. This is the precursor to wisdom.

Wisdom does not hold a prominent position in our culture. It is not taught in schools, it is not discussed in the mass media, it has been sidelined to the domains of philosophy and religion. The Ancient Greeks were certainly fans of wisdom but more than that it was something they actively sought after. For Aristotle, one of the Greek words for wisdom, sophia, (the act of reasoning, discovering and questioning) was limited if it did not lead to phronesis (practical wisdom – the ability to weigh up situations and act benevolently).

What a difference it would make if we paused to think about the events, choices and circumstances of our lives and considered what they might be teaching us, how we might do things better in the future and how our future choices could benefit others.

No doubt all of the world’s a stage, but you and I are involved in the task of improvisation rather than learning our lines. Each scene, each experience can take us forwards towards wisdom and compassion if we make the choice not to rush the finale but to see each scene as an opportunity to connect with the other players, with ourselves, with the set-designer.

Whilst thinking about endurance and achieving goals. I came across this definition for endurance ‘the capacity of something to last or to withstand wear and tear’. It’s referring to objects, but I really love it as a definition for myself and the things I am creating in my life. In a world where everything is disposable, including it seems relationships, and people, I want to create things that will last. Trouble and difficulty are inevitable, sometimes it seems like the solutions to these problems are to give up or to get a new one. Enduring the tough times, dealing with the confrontations, making the difficult decisions creates something more beautiful and valuable than simple moving on to something or someone new.

How can we gain more wisdom?

How can we help each other develop practical wisdom from our experience?

Who do you look to for wisdom?