The Power of One

I was a little disturbed to read on the front page of the papers this week ‘May says US and UK can lead the world again.’ Whilst I’m not entirely sure of her motives behind saying this, it smacks of bravado and making the best of a bad situation. I’m not prepared to make any further criticism; she is in a tough position and I would never want to swap places. With our political and economic situation looking so uncertain it is easy to focus on the bleakness of our nation and despair.

I have never studied Aristotle as a politician, only as an ethicist and empiricist, but I can see he took a holistic view of all that he observed and considered. For him, politics was not about status or power but about achieving eudaimonia. This was the purpose of politics as far as he was concerned, it is ‘the business of the lawgiver to create the good society.’ (The Politics)

My feelings of bleakness and despair initially took a further dive following a number of articles about the problem of homelessness in the UK.

Then I came across this:

Keeping people on the streets warm

I love it. Someone thought creatively, had an idea and acted on it. Then because of the thoughts and actions of one person, others joined in. If I look at the nation, at things globally, I feel helpless. I question my role, as whatever I can do seems invisible and insignificant. Sometimes the big picture clouds a thousand smaller images that could bring change. I was inspired by another of Aristotle’s thoughts: ‘A state is partnership of families and clans living well and its object is the full and independent life.’ (The Politics) I wonder what it would look like if we were given the chance to partner with our government, with one another to create a good society. Regardless of the actions of the government we still have the choice to partner with one another.

The impersonal hand of government can never replace the helping hand of a neighbour. 

(Hubert Humphrey)

Since moving four years ago, it has been our desire to involve ourselves in the local community. With both of us having full-time jobs elsewhere, this was practically very difficult. We tried a ‘house warming’ with neighbours in our street; very few came but those that did appreciated the effort. Other ideas have also been unsuccessful, part of the reason maybe that many people stay here their whole lives and often their children do too. There is a village mentality, which means that time will really make a difference.

Earlier this month I started a new project. Having written about the importance of time for oneself and the benefits of ‘being’ rather than ‘doing’, I decided to facilitate time and activities that would enable people in our locality the opportunity to do so. I’ve set up a weekly time for people to enjoy free coffee & cake, take part in an art activity and enjoy some quiet time through sensory meditation. At our last gathering we nearly hit double figures, but numbers are not really important. It was so special to hear people saying that they had connected with people they would never normally have time to chat with. I loved seeing people rediscover that child-like joy through creating art with sweets, shaving foam, water and food colouring!

Each of us has a gift, a skill; if these remain unused, our communities are a little darker and colder. It is hard sometimes admitting we have need of one another, but it is a reciprocal relationship; as we give, so we receive.

We can begin by doing small things at the local level, like planting community gardens or looking out for our neighbours. That is how change takes place in living systems, not from above but from within, from many local actions occurring simultaneously.

(Grace Lee Boggs)

 You and I may just be drops in a vast ocean, but we can cause a ripple effect and who knows where it can end?

The Benefit of the Doubt

 

Doubt generally conjures up negative connotations. We link it with mistrust and feel offended if the doubt is directed at us. In the arena of faith, doubt is often seen as its direct opposite, yet many who express deep faith profess to have doubts and find comfort and even impetus through them.

‘Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith.’ (Paul Tillich)

‘If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things.’ (Rene Descartes)

Descartes, who is probably more famous for his ‘I think, therefore I am’ quotation than the one cited above was the Father of Cartesian philosophy – the idea that all existence should be questioned in order to be understood. Whilst we could get caught up in a mind bending exercise to argue that this is not some dream existence (although perhaps after Trump’s inauguration yesterday, some people wish it was), I am happy for now (especially as I write) to assume both your existence and my own.

Asserting doubts is the beginning of self-autonomy. As toddlers our common refrain would have been ‘why?’ I remember the common response being ‘because I said so!’ This response is the reassertion of dominance. For some level the toddler is questioning the knowledge and authority of the parent. Whilst dealing with this can be frustrating it is a necessary path to curiosity and independent thought.

In a world of post-truth perhaps doubt and questioning are our greatest allies. The educational system in this country is being blamed for not nurturing critical thinkers and independent learners but surely this is something we could all do with developing further. Tweets and posts have become ‘gospel truth’ that we either choose to believe or ignore. Perhaps we need to give less credit and time to gossip columnists and social commentators and instead give more attention to those who are prepared to question the status quo.

During this last week I went to see Martin Scorsese’s ‘Silence’. I was really impressed by Andrew Garfield’s portrayal of a Jesuit priest. I then discovered that in preparation for the film he completed the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. In a recent interview he was asked about faith and whether he had doubts about God and the after-life.

‘…And I think a life of faith is not a life of certainty. A life of faith is a life of – of doubt. And I think it is so healthy to doubt. It’s so health to doubt oneself, it’s so healthy to doubt any assumption we make about how to live. And I think – what I say when – what I mean when I say certainty scares me, certainty starts war. Certainty starts war on behalf of ideology. Certainty of the ‘I – I know and you don't.’ That's the scariest thing to me and what – what a human being is capable of doing.’

Andrew Garfield Interview

This is the kind of doubt I think we could all do with considering. Doubt that questions my assumptions. Doubt that allows for your view as much as mine. 

What do you think? 

What are the benefits of doubts? 

Would critical thinking benefit teenagers, our society?

Shall I compare thee...

...to me?!

I came across a newspaper article recently, in which Daisy Lowe was being unfavourably compared to Emma Forbes. Both had been papped in their swim suits whilst on holiday and were being critiqued for their choice of swim-wear. I was a little incredulous that this sort of article still made the news, but was reminded in the last few days that there is still appetite for this kind of critiquing with the current flurry of award ceremonies. This is peak time for the appraisal of celebrity fashion and the shaming of those who commit fashion faux pas.

Despite collaboration being the buzzword in business and education we are still fuelled by competition. I get the argument: competition spurs on excellence and innovation. Many would also argue that competition is part of our Darwinian heritage, but it strikes me that with the advancement of technology, the need for competition in order than I might live or reproduce are no longer required. Whilst I can see there will always be competition in the world of work and sport, my concern is that I apply the same competitive nature to my life. This leads to a false and unhealthy comparison with others.

Whilst encouraging a friend to step out into a new project, I feel fearful I am getting left behind. I want to be the one who rejoices at their victories and weeps at their losses but all too often another’s victory leads to my own self-doubt and a mental side-ways glance to see how I am measuring up.

Aristotle’s proposal for the good life is through the development and application of virtues. He believed the flourishing of the individual would inevitably lead to the flourishing of society. Sounds good, but working out the reality of this is hard and even modern philosophers disagree with how this can be achieved. One of his ideas, which I love, is the virtue of friendship. To want the best for your friend without the motivation to benefit oneself is a high bar to set, but I believe one worth reaching for. Where is the place for competition in friendship? One might argue that there is no place, surely competition would lead to jealousy, upset and perhaps even relationship break-down. An American philosopher, Richard Kraut believes that there is a place for competition within friendship and virtue ethics. He calls this ‘moral competition’. This is the idea that there can be rivalry when being virtuous. However, this does not lead to the traditional ‘winners and losers’ in competition. Everyone is a winner as when an individual succeeds in acting virtuously, not only does that person benefit but also the people around them. If the act is truly virtuous then it should benefit all involved.

I’m not sure I’m totally convinced – it seems so easy to fall prey to pride or smugness in this kind of competition. It is all rather dependent on my definition of virtuous which is something hotly debated amongst modern philosophers.

Psychologists explain that female competitiveness is a result of a Darwinian compulsion to be impregnated by the best man. This seems an outdated, uncomfortable notion, yet the comparisons continue.

When our value is left in the hands of another, what are we left with but comparison and competition? When this competitive spirit takes hold of us we end up living in a small, limited world. The truth is the world is bigger than we imagine and we are greater than we can conceive. In a world without competition, without the threat of losing, who could you be?

What are the benefits of competition?

To what extent do you think collaboration a good alternative to competition?

What tips do you have for combating the competitive spirit that compels us to make comparisons?

 

Trying is not Failing

Making New Year’s resolutions appears to have gone out of fashion – people tried it and it was too hard. However, change (and for the better) seems to be on everyone’s agenda. So many were looking forward to saying ‘goodbye’ to 2016 and are looking for positive ways to tackle 2017. There has been a great emphasis on authenticity and transparency. The recent trend of no makeup selfies seems to be a visual demonstration of this desire for authenticity. At the beginning of the year Susanna Reid, followed this trend and posted comparison selfies on Instagram at the beginning of the year. In one she is ‘TV ready’ with full makeup and in the other she is ‘Susanna in real life’ – no makeup. She then wished people a ‘Happy Being You Year’.

What does the real you look like? I don’t really mean without physical makeup. The truth is that we all put on a non-physical kind of make-up to portray who we wish to be, or who we perceive others think we should be. This may affect how we look, but it has an even greater internal impact. For me it is about which voices I choose to listen to. There are so many voices vying for my attention. If I listen to the voices of the past I am paralysed in the present and if I focus on the future it is hard to move forwards.

There is a constant internal battle going on which questions my ability to make progress. This didn’t start when I started writing; it’s been going on for years and in different areas of my life. Everyday, and definitely more than once, I have to talk to myself to keep going in a positive direction. Sometimes it is exhausting.

About six months ago I started creating an inspiration wall in the room I now write in. On the wall I put up pictures, quotations, anything that would encourage me to keep going rather than give up. My New Year’s resolution started in September and I am not giving up. I am going to continue to cultivate that positive voice.  

This Christmas was difficult. It felt like I ran into a number of ‘old voices’ some that I thought I could easily ‘shout’ over, but it turns out words still hurt. I feel mentally as though as I have had flu; drained and washed out. I am over the worst but it is a struggle to keep going, I am lacking the energy and inclination to do so.

What holds us back from keeping our resolutions? Probably a number of things:

• The reward to complete it is not as great as the current situation
• Lack of self-belief
• The wrong voice talking more loudly or more frequently
• The wrong voice was what started this – it is the wrong goal
• The trigger to get started is missing

And when it goes wrong, we assume THIS IS FAILURE. It is not. We can be our own worst critics. One of the things I have started to tell myself is, ‘trying is not failing’. New Years are annual – obviously, but resolutions don’t have to be. Everyday begins anew, a fresh start, a chance to try again

One of my favourite quotations on my inspiration wall is: ‘Put your big girl panties on, cowboy up and get the job done. No one else will do it for you.’ I’m not quite sure why, but when I read it I smile, it cuts through the crap going round and round in my head and I get to start again.

What are your New Year resolutions?

What ways have you found to silence the voices?

What encourages or inspires you to keep going?

Saving the best for last?

These sudden ends of time must give us pause.   

We fray into the future, rarely wrought

Save in the tapestries of afterthought.

More time, more time. Barrages of applause   

Come muffled from a buried radio.

The New-year bells are wrangling with the snow.

Year’s End by Richard Wilbur

Considering the inevitability of it, it is strange that death is seldom a topic of conversation. We seem to have a strange relationship with time; we frequently complain that we never have enough, yet when it comes to preparing for death we think we have all the time in the world.

This year seems to have been punctuated with a number of unexpected deaths. From the well-loved and famous to the anonymous lives taken in hatred and fear through war and terrorism, this litany of loss has put death on my mind a number of times this year.

When death occurs it is seen as an appropriate time to speak about the person who has died; their accomplishments, memories and personal affirmations. I wonder how often the people making these declarations made them clear to the person when they were alive.

It has become common to speak of a ‘bucket list’ and there are now books to inspire you with things to do, see and places to visit before you die. Perhaps there are acts that one regrets on one’s death bed – it’s widely recognised that ‘spending more time at the office’ is not one. I wonder what a bucket list of things you want to say would look like. I realise that it is scary to tell someone how you really feel about them. It’s easier to say something prosaic, rather than an individual compliment or a personal affirmation. A recent TED talk that I listened to described how two sisters decided to embrace difficult truths in order to face a painful operation and their mortality.* As a result their relationship was transformed and they reached a greater intimacy. It was challenging and inspiring.

In class, pupils would discuss the benefits and concerns of euthanasia (as part of their learning about medical ethics). The discussions were often heated and I would tell them that it was highly likely that they might be the first generation that would influence the law on this issue. If that is the case, maybe we all have a responsibility to talk more about death. Not just the practical or ethical details but things that we want to do and say before death takes away our opportunity to do so.

Growing up we had a number of things that were for ‘best’ rather than everyday – a best dinner-set, table cloth, or an outfit for example. New things would be bought and saved until the thing they were replacing truly fell apart. It was as if we were saving the best for last. It sometimes seems that we take this attitude to sharing those important things with the ones we love. We save them up for such a time – sometimes a wedding but more often than not it becomes their funeral. Why do we do this? Surely it is so much more meaningful to share those memories, those affirmations when the person at the centre of these words is there to hear it.

I don’t want to save the best for last. I want to savour the good now. I want to try and be braver; to be more thankful and truthful with those who connect with my life before it’s too late.

 * TED talk

Present Your Presence

 

It’s really nearly Christmas! There’s still time though to scurry around for the last gift or the extra roll of wrapping paper you were sure you wouldn’t need. Presents seem to present an extra stress; some people are so difficult to buy for, others just ask for money but it somehow feels wrong just handing over an envelope rather than a wrapped gift.

One of the early chapters of the book I’ve been reading, (‘What Matters Most?’ by Brian Draper), focuses on the art of being. As I’ve read it on the run-up to Christmas it has caused me to consider the best present we can give one another is our presence. It’s so easy to get caught up in the activities of Christmas that we can miss being present with one another.

This isn’t just about turning up. It is an active seeking to be there with the person or people. No phones, no gadgets, no distractions. An emptying of oneself in order to see the fullness of the other person. It requires me to let go of my agenda, of my need to be heard and seen and instead to truly see you. That’s hard. So often insecurities surface, the need for approval surpasses my ability to just be with you.

A friend of ours has recently been bereaved and Christmas will not be the same without her dad’s presence. It’s so easy to take family and friends for granted; to wish away cramped gatherings and boisterous meal times but it’s their presence we’re really there for isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong – I love presents – ‘gifts’ is one of my top love languages* but I know if had to choose, I’d want your presence rather than your presents every single time.

Since leaving teaching I have developed some regular routines to be with people. Initially there was a powerful urge to want to do something in that time. I wanted to be able to achieve something for that person, perhaps through practical help or advice. I have struggled to ‘be’ rather than to ‘do’ even when I have proactively tried to focus on being present with them. However, there have also been small glimpses of being more aware and more connected. I want to live here more.

Small things can help us to feel more present – I have participated in a mindfulness exercise where you focus on a raisin. Using all your different senses you observe the raisin, concluding with taste. I will be honest and tell you that I didn’t find this particularly helpful – I was mostly trying not to laugh! Animals can help us feel more present. When Watson is cuddly, I am reluctant to get on with my next task, I want to savour the moment, his softness. The other morning he smelled of chocolate hobnobs (no idea why) and all morning I would take a moment to breathe in the chocolatey scent. Animals simply are. The challenge then is to be present with people and my environment. Christmas is a stressful and emotional time but if I allow myself to be held back by past hurts or worried about the future, I miss out on this present.

What are the moments in your life when you have felt ‘present’?

How can we be more present in our lives?

Wishing you a very Merry Christmas and the joy of knowing greater presence in your life.

Telling Tales

A Christmas letter, an open house - both ideal for reflecting back on another year having passed. I was invited to an open house this week. I only knew the person hosting, but people were very willing to chat and listen. It soon became an opportunity for learning, as one lady was struggling to find a present for her son and daughter-in-law. Immediately, others in the room were sharing their suggestions and previous successes with past ideas. A solution was found that satisfied the needs of the lady and I felt warmed by the willingness of strangers to offer their help and advice.

It’s sad to think that there are many who will not have the chance to share their stories of the past year. As adults it seems we forget our love for and even our need for storytelling. A couple of years ago we went up to the Edinburgh Festival and I involved myself in a little project – to interview people that passed me on the street. I had a number of questions designed to allow people, (if they wanted) to share some of their Story with me. I hadn’t expected to be so moved or feel so privileged that people would share their greatest fears, their saddest moments and successes with me, a total stranger. Everyone has a story.  At Christmas when we gather with friends we have not seen for a while and extended family members it seems an ideal time to share some of those stories.

My husband volunteers for a phone help-line and so often the caller just needs someone to listen to their story. We can be so quick to relate a tale to our own lives or offer advice, when most often all that is needed is a listening ear.

In other cultures storytelling is at the heart of community, and I guess we have a sense of this with Nativity plays, pantomimes and our favourite Christmas films but the idea of sharing our own story with one another seems to be lost. I have never celebrated a Thanksgiving, but I like the idea of sharing something that you are thankful for – I wonder if this ever develops from a simple word into little stories of thanksgiving. This year could be the time for a new Christmas tradition – the opportunity for each person you’re with to share something about this last year that is meaningful for them.

At the heart of Christmas is a story. It gets re-told in so many ways that we may feel an over-familiarity with it. These adaptations of the Biblical accounts give us the big picture but I wonder what you would discover if you were to look at the events from the perspective of just one character. What would it have been like to be a shepherd; hearing the message of the angels, being the first to see the baby? How about a wise man – would they have had doubts about where they were going and what they were doing? How would it have felt to be an angel travelling to earth to broadcast the birth of the baby? The innkeeper’s inconvenience, the scandal of Mary’s pregnancy, the commitment of Joseph to protect Mary and Jesus are all aspects that it is easy to gloss over.

This Christmas there is an opportunity; once the presents are unwrapped and the dinner lies heavy in your tummy to be both a storyteller and a listener. Everybody has a story, sometimes they need encouragement to speak it out but often we all gain from hearing about the experiences of others.

There are no questions this week, instead I’m inviting you to share something from this past year that has meant something to you. It may be a challenge you have overcome, something or someone you are thankful for, a success, a sadness – anything that has importance for you.