Out To Lunch

My husband is a pragmatic sort, who’s hobby is travel. He is soon to embark on a mammoth cross-Continental tour of the USA, courtesy of Highway 2.

He is in his mid-sixties, and has been doing cross-Continental tours of the USA since his late teens, and though he is a Brit, resident in the UK, I bet there aren’t so many US citizens who have travelled as far. He has clocked up every State, and will, if I remind him, take in the Territories too, which would be good, as I see they have short roads and good climates. Which might tempt me along.

If you are a US citizen reading this, challenge him. He keeps detailed records, and if you can come up with a trans-Continental route he has’t crossed off his list, he’d love to hear from you!

So what am I working up to say? He’s invited me out to lunch today! This has happened about twenty times in our 43 yr marriage, so I am excited. The venue? It appears a new motorway service station has opened up on the M5 near Gloucester and he thinks I’ll love it.

Going Home

Going home

Lying in wait for death –
I sprang out, a little precipitately
And rather too soon.
Embarrassed, I
Tried to look young, fit
And nonchalant.
Death, unphased
(For he’s seen everything, Let’s face it)
Tipped his hat

And ventured a cheery, “Good Morning”
Which, frankly, I found a little off-putting:
Disrespectful, even.

Am I too early? Just like granny
At the bus-stop with her Pass.
And, If so, Do you mind if I ummm
Leave now?

Death put aside his scythe
Plumped down on a handily placed
Wrought Iron Memorial Bench
And sighed.
Deeply

‘I’d very much appreciate it,
(His voice! Quiet, melodious –
I know! So unexpected!)
If you would walk out with me today.

I have an occasional longing for a human face
That isn’t quite so … .
In deference to the dearly departing
He left the sentence hanging in the air,

Up for anything me,
I looked him in the sockets
And acquiesced.

MacDonalds? He grinned, holding out a sleeve.
Tucking it under my arm I
Stepped out
MacDonald’s I giggled

Our first date!

I Believe

My inner- writer will give me no rest until I do this. That is, write a Statement of Faith.

This is SO HARD. What possible purpose would it serve? Who knows or cares?

I’m time-wasting, because as of this very moment, I have no idea what I’m going to say. So it’s down to my subconscious to bail me out again: I shall take this opportunity to give my Right Brain the reins, and let rip:

I know that the Cosmos of which I am a speck, is more than 99% void. I look upon the void with wonder. I wonder that I am matter, and I wonder that I am conscious. Life is of inestimable value, conscious life even more so. I, you, everyone: so rare, so precious.

There rises from deep within me a profound gratitude for Being. This gratitude is unfocused, but real. I delight in every manifestation of life, especially in those three lives I helped to bring into Being. My children.

I have searched and searched for meaning, and for a purpose in my life, and have not arrived at any conclusions. This is what I think today, tomorrow I shall be as happy as I am now to write something quite different.

As there are as many purposes in life as there are gurus to tell me what they are, I may as well invent my own. Like you, I will do this in accordance with my personality, my upbringing and my circumstances.

I discovered that ‘ I believe ‘ is too passive. So I ditched it for, I will. And maybe I will. I hope so! Here I am:

I will do what brings me peace.

I will pursue happiness.

I will revel in adventure.

I will make myself laugh, and in doing so, I hope to make others laugh too.

I will endeavour to gladden the hearts of those I meet, and I will not always succeed.

If I have to be angry at all, it will be FOR others, and not with them.

I will try always to be kind.

I will react to the suffering of others – in all it’s manifestations – with compassion, and I will,when I can, do what I can to alleviate it.

I will retreat into silence from time to time to connect with Gratitude, and give thanks for Being.

I will never forget how to play.

I will accept that this form will fade and die. Whether there is another form to come, doesn’t matter: this one flawed, but perfect, life will have been enough.

I will make every day count by continuously calling myself back to being conscious and present in every moment.

I will remember love: that it is the most lavish and beautiful of gifts, that it never dies, and is never wasted.

I will try to remember how flawed I am, and bring no judgement down on others.

I will forgive myself for my imperfections, and offer the same gift to others.

And finally:

I will remind you, wherever you are, whoever you are, that you are loved.

A New Earth

I had to have two goes at it. This  is because I am not prone to giving up. This stubborn adherence to the unlikely, the improbable and the hard to swallow is my one weakness. (Ho ho ho)

The ‘it’ to which I refer in my opening shot, is a book: ” The New Earth: Create a Better Life” by spiritual teacher and winner of my Peter Pan look-alike award, Ekhart Tolle.

The first time round, I found myself, after just a few paragraphs, in ‘hard to swallow’ mode. I am not THAT sceptical, in fact just the opposite: it’s scarily easy to lead me on and catch me out investing trust in the most outlandish propositions. I’ll believe anything, and usually do.

I once gave myself a migraine ranting in full-on indignation at the television set over an EU regulation specifying the length and breadth of carrots, the piece coming complete with the presenter holding the mould into which carrot seeds were to be sowed, in order to ensure compliance. It was a hoax. it was All Fools Day, and I came top.

I’m not stupid, however, so I have to believe that intelligence and gullibility are not mutually incompatible. I like being a trusting softie, it keeps me smiling, and out of as much trouble as it gets me into.

Yes, I’m rambling. Let me take a sip of my tea and…

In the back of my mind sits ‘Number 45′ in my ’99 Things’ book. ‘Write A Statement of Faith’.

I have been a Christian since the date of my baptism which was in November 1950, and as I was only six weeks old at the time, I like to think some kind of pre-bap agreement had me covered even earlier.

I believed nothing at six weeks, of course, and in the course of the following fifty years or so, I came to believe A LOT. Sometimes, I even acted on my beliefs, with a startling caveat. I never really swallowed hell. Or punishment of any kind. I nodded in the direction of it, and never wasted my breath opposing it, I just knew at a deeper level that a God who spends your whole life telling you he loves you, then throws you into a fiery pit because he caught you out doing something you didn’t ought to have done, which he allowed you to do, didn’t add up.

I don’t know that the insights into the incomprehensible world of the Spirt that I gained from Ekhart are ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, I don’t even know if ‘right or wrong’ works with the unknowable. I guess you just have to go with the intangible, but ever-present inner witness, that whispers a silent, ‘Yes!’ and warms your heart. You may not be comfortable with that concept, but you know it’s there. Recognising its Presence is the beginning of awareness of your spiritual evolution that has nothing to do with hell, and everything to do with truly knowing who you are, and what your purpose is.

Ekhart writes that your purpose is to bring consciousness into the world. To walk through your day fully aware, totally present, not harking back to the past, or concerning yourself with the future. There’s more, lots more, but that, I think, is enough.

Is he onto something really big? I don’t know. How could I? I do know that a lot of what I believed for more than fifty years served no useful purpose whatsoever. So my Statement of Faith, when I get around to writing it, isn’t going to be very long.

Cosmic Naughty-Step

Last Week’s New Scientist featured The Death of God, though in all honesty it didn’t put it QUITE like that, if for no other reason than death presumes erstwhile life. The study under scrutiny will tell you what you already know: that in Western society the majority approach to divinity is ‘Who cares?’ God has become for many one great irrelevance. We are no longer ‘for’ or ‘agin’ religion, we just don’t give a tuppeny damn about it.

I say, “we”, but that wouldn’t be exactly true, because I have something entirely inexplicable that I don’t seem quite ready to let go of.

It seems to me that enlightened faith is a good thing. On balance. I mean, it prompts altruism, offers comfort and gives you an opportunity for a sing-song on a regular basis. But to get to a reasonably enlightened position, you do have to jettison a lot of nasty stuff. All the elements of Jehovah, for example, that are blatently evil: murder and mayhem for starters. Or as one of my tecahers put it:

” You can’t have a god who says ,”I have loved you with an everlasting love,” whilst at the same time promising that she’ll do indelicate things to you with redhot pokers, for all eternity, if you don’t do as you’re told. ”

My evangelical friends at the City Mission are convinced that hell exists and awaits everyone who doesn’t toe the line in the here and now. As I have long since accepted that I have a very limited capacity for toe-lining, I am in a bit of a quandry. Do I ‘fess up and say, “Actually, I think what you believe is barbaric.” and get myself drummed out of what is a really splendid organisation, or do I keep mum whilst never assenting to the hell-fire and damnation requirements?

The gospel according to me is pretty basic.

You are completely and unconditionally loved
You are of infinite worth
Whoever you are, whatever you do, is none of my business
You’re better off being kind and doing good, because you’re hardwired to benefit from it
All of the above are God in me reaching out to God in you, (whoever he is) as an equal.

No angels or demons, no heaven or hell, no cosmic naughty-step, just this wonderful life on a beautiful planet with a consciousness capable of reaching beyond the stars to adventure, wholeness, and, with a bit of effort, peace.

Miracles For All

The weekend spent practising how to do Mindfulness was a bit of an eye-opener.

My husband , when asked (generally by me) how he would describe what I’m like, will reply, “Complex.” I am apt to give him a sideways glance at this, in order to ascertain whether this is criticism or not. I believe him to be sidestepping the issue, and that “complex” is the closest to criticism that he feels he can get, without drawing down wrath.

“Muddled” would probably be closer to the mark, and I would bet my second best bed that many people also fall into this category. I don’t know what’s going on in the world half the time, and am usually loath to find out, in case I don’t agree with it. So let’s go looking for Truth.

One of the oddest books I have ever come across is ‘A Course In Miracles.’ It was written by a psychologist who asked God for Enlightenment and wrote down what ensued. A rather similar process as to how I go about writing this blog, only without asking God.

The Course in Miracles sets out, in more than 300 daily lessons, to teach you how to transform your worldview and become a better person. Let me give you a taste:

Lesson 1

Nothing I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place] means anything.
Now look slowly around you, and practice applying this idea very specifically to whatever you see:
This table does not mean anything.
This chair does not mean anything.
This hand does not mean anything
This foot does not mean anything.
This pen does not mean anything.

One goes from here, through 365 daily exercises, to knowing that one is sinless, and that one is, as is everyone, the Son of God. I am pretty sure that this book led to my complete Enlightenment, as summed up in my signature tenet-of-faith, “You can believe what you like and get away with it.”

Mind you, In my opinion, you can believe far worse things than the sum of “A Course in Miracles”. Most, if not all, mainstream faith traditions, for example, especially the bits that encourage us to abuse and kill one another.

I gave up coursing through the miracles because I couldn’t be doing with repeating things. It made me feel silly. I shall feel even sillier, naturally, if I get denied the delights of Paradise because I hadn’t the staying power to endure a bit of chanting, but I have weighed the odds and decided to chance it.

However, What ACIM DID do for me was to force me to think about what I think about the nature of reality. After all, the most that can be experienced at any one moment, is what is right there IN that moment, which is therefore, to all intents and purposes, all there IS. See? One suspects that God is supposed to hold everything all together having every moment in his consciousness, but that’s just guessing.

So I dumped ACIM and went on a Mindfulness course instead.

I rather like being Mindful. To do this, you hold your attention fully in the moment. No cheating! The present is a beautiful place: here you are fully sentient, totally aware and gloriously awash with the input from your senses.

I got to practice in silence for a bit, then went about gardening and polishing the Centre’s piano, Mindfully.

When I remember to stay mindful, I experience what is before me in all its fullness. I am not allowing my attention to wander. I no longer attempt to mentally multi-task. It’s fun. It’s worth giving it a go.

So the next time my husband is asked what I’m like, I rather hope he’ll reply, “Mindful”. I expect I shall have to coach him first though… .