Impossible to fix?

At times, it feels impossible to fix. 

The problem beyond solution. 

However adept and agile the mind, however, clever and cunning the plan. 

It still feels like an impossible task. 

When you've done everything you can, thought it out from every angle, consulted with those with experience or wisdom, or who know you best, then there comes a time to leave it in the hands of God. 

Not like a spoilt child, crying for a parent to fix the broken toy, but with tenderness and humility leave it in the hands of God whose compassion is greater than we can possibly imagine.

Alone and a bit lost?

Prayer is such a personal affair.  Perhaps the most personal of all communication. So speaking of it is tricky. After all, if the condition of prayer is communing with God should we even attempt to discuss such a private thing with others?  A good definition is perhaps the best place to start.

"The state of prayer is the best of conditions, for man is then associating with God."

ʻAbdu'l-Bahá

Knowing what we can endure, accept or change is a fundamental part of that critical conversation.

"God, grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference. "

Reinhold Niebuhr

Prayer has always been much more than asking for things. It has always been even more than just words, it is an act that should have real consequences.  If we pray without subsequently arising to carry out deeds worthy of that divine connection then of what worth are we or our words?

"This is worship: to serve mankind and to minister to the needs of the people. Service is prayer." 

ʻAbdu'l-Bahá

Often prayers are a call of affirmation, or a call for assistance from God and can bring comfort to a soul in trouble and have done so for thousands of years.  We cannot use the following words without thinking of all those before us who have whispered such a heartfelt plea at moments when all seemed hopeless.

Even though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil;

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff–they comfort me.

Psalms 23: 1-6

In this prayer David speaks to God in terms that any shepherd would have found familiar.  Three thousand years ago a shepherd like David carried a rod and a staff to protect his sheep. The rod was a cudgel: a short, thick, heavy stick worn in his shepherd's belt. The staff was usually a long, lightweight pole with a curved end, a crook, that controlled the sheep and kept them safe within the flock.  Both could be used by the shepherd to protect his animals from any predator.  This prayer is a reminder that God’s presence, like the shepherd, is always there to protect and guide us in very real and tangible ways.  The recital of such powerful prayers influences our spirit in ways akin to a cleansing process.  It has been compared to bathing quite beautifully in the following quote.

"Prayer is the inner bath of love into which the soul plunges itself."

St. John Vianney

Those who fill their life with prayer and real service to others recognise that prayer is not a one-sided communication. On the contrary, the most important part of prayer is invariably the silence and listening that follows or even begins communion with God. 

"God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer."

Mother Teresa

There are often too many words in our prayers and a reluctance to really listen. Just as when talking to family and friends it is not the quantity of the conversation that matters but its quality. 

"The most acceptable prayer is the one offered with the utmost spirituality and radiance; its prolongation hath not been and is not beloved by God."

The Báb

A reluctance to pray can be from overconfidence in our own abilities.  Admitting one needs help is not a sign of weakness. Many outstanding individuals have used prayer when they found the challenges facing them beyond endurance.

"I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day."

Abraham Lincoln

The prayers of saints can be that potent mixture of communion with God and setting noble goals.

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love,

Where there is injury, pardon

Where there is doubt, faith,

Where there is despair, hope,

Where there is darkness, light,

Where there is sadness, joy."

St. Francis of Assisi

Our parents devote much time, energy, and love to us and an expression of gratitude is often the only worthwhile response to that devotion.

"It is seemly that the servant should, after each prayer, supplicate God to bestow mercy and forgiveness upon his parents. Thereupon God’s call will be raised: “Thousand upon thousand of what thou hast asked for thy parents shall be thy recompense!”

The Báb

There can be times when we feel there is no answer to our prayers and God seems very far away.  That can mean that the answer is simply no. Regarding the huge distance, we find ourselves from God the question it prompts is, “Who has moved”? Even the act of turning in the right direction, whatever the response or distance, can bring unexpected blessings.

"A generous prayer is never presented in vain; the petition may be refused, but the petitioner is always, I believe, rewarded by some gracious visitation."

Robert Louis Stevenson

Indeed, sometimes we focus so entirely on the dialogue that we forget the spirit behind such communion is more important than the words.

"It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without heart."

Mahatma Gandhi

The saying “Trust in God, but tie your camel” is a useful practical suggestion. Our actions and spiritual growth can require different motivations.

"Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you."

St. Augustine

Sometimes we just need the simplest and shortest of prayers and this is one that works for me.

"Is there any Remover of difficulties save God?  Say: Praised be God!  He is God!  All are His servants, and all abide by His bidding!"

The Báb

Descent into madness and avoiding rabbit holes

Lockdown felt, at times, like a rabbit hole down which one sinks with remorseless ease.  Its progress or regress could be expressed most simply in terms of television viewing habits.  But I feared that under the surface, far more insidious changes are happening. 

“Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart.”        Khalil Gibran

It started with "Say, yes to the dress" a programme where women young and old come to find their bridal outfit in a plush shop in New York City.  There, they spend small fortunes to find that mystical dress that will transform their wedding into a fantasy story.  In the plush, spoiled environment they prance and complain and demand still more.  After a while one grows tired of their demands and expectations.  You simply become bored with their selfish absorption of how they want to look on the big day.  It is no coincidence that even the most expensive extreme dress is not quite enough and disappointment is often clear on their cosmetically enhanced features. 

Beauty and folly are often companions.                                    French Proverb

So I turned to another type of wedding outfitters.  Nazranaa Diaries offered a much more extreme range of dresses in terms of colour and richness both for brides and bridegrooms.  The vivid colours and range of styles make the ordinary bride wear very humdrum indeed.

An extra component is that the men are regaled in outfits just as over the top as the women.  It is refreshing to see men decide what suits them.

However, it is the young brides who usually dictate the colour and design of both bridal outfits.  Remonstrating with their groom-to-be about the colours of the wedding venue, their chosen colour palette and how the groom's outfit has to fit with her dress.    Her bridesmaids often have strong opinions too and the grooms are commonly paraded in increasingly bizarre clothes that are chosen for them whatever their own wishes.  It suddenly occurs to the viewer that this does not bode well for the future of the marriage.  Just once a groom held firm to his favourite outfit and his bride sulked and threatened him.  Her bridesmaid told him it made him look ridiculous.  He decided he wanted it anyway.  After a hundred episodes of hen picked grooms it was a wonder to behold.  "But it clashes with my dress!" His bride cried real tears to get her way. In the awkward moments that followed of his weeping tear-stained bride,  he fixed her with a steely glare and said: "I want this one!" I wanted to stand and clap in satisfaction.  But there are only so many Asian outfits despite the wider range of colours and shapes and sizes one can watch.  I grew weary of the expense and the shallowness of all it portrayed.

After that, I turned to the series on Big Fat Gipsy Weddings where the wedding dresses are so extreme and over the top that after only a few episodes I wearied of the excesses.  Somehow the outfits remind me of the tackiness and creepiness of Punch and Judy puppets.  I don't know why?

“Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it.”                         Confucius

By this stage, I was sickening of the self-obsessed prancing of brides-to-be in front of mirrors and screams of "Oh how beautiful I look!"  Quite frankly their happiness neither pleased nor entertained but merely bored me.  I needed something more hard-hitting, more emotion-inducing.  I found it in the series Curvy Brides Boutique.  Here very fat brides go to a wedding dress shop in the countryside designed for the larger woman.  Instead of being disappointed at finding one or no dresses to fit them, they are delighted to find an entire shop full of wedding dresses that actually fit them.  Nearly all these fat woman hate their image in the mirror so much that they don't like looking at themselves at all.  Their humility and lack of pride are refreshing.  They come across as so much nicer people.  Modest and self-effacing.  Prepared to laugh at themselves and with the very lowest of expectations regarding their wedding dress.  They just want to find a dress that fits, that will do.  So watching them get perfect makeup and hair then being given a dress that, with corsets, creates a waist was like watching Cinderella being transformed for the ball.  A kindly, fat, lacking in confidence Cinderella that deserved to have her big moment.  The look on their faces when the right dress is found is not triumphant but emotional and tearful.  They look genuinely surprised at their reflection in the mirror and say things like "I cannot believe I look alright in this dress".  As if being hideous was their birthright.  Their happiness makes them beautiful and you suddenly see that too.  All have stories and many touch your heart.  So many have been bullied because of their weight throughout school and they speak of the unkindness of others.  One feels ashamed at the cruelty of humankind and how much damage is inflicted to sweet souls every single day because of how they look.  A large young twenty-four-year-old had donated one kidney to her Mum and had put on a lot of weight since the operation.  Her bravery and act of selflessness which saved her mother's life spoke of the quality of this young lady and suddenly you realised what a lucky man her groom was.  The compassion and kindness of these self-deprecating ladies was the perfect antidote to the self-absorption of those earlier skinny brides.

“Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.”              Rumi

Then, I grew tired of this rabbit hole entirely and saught the light.  Watching TV is such a degrading sedentary practice in so many ways.  You spend so much time digesting stuff that is unwholesome searching for more extreme versions of what you have already seen.  Your taste becomes odder and quirkier and jaded.    I call it a descent into madness and I tell the tale as a warning.  Avoid this particular rabbit hole and choose a healthier and more productive path.  WE are what we Do.

Shouting preachers, spiritual paths

In my childhood it was common to walk down our village street being harangued about the fires of hell. These street preachers would unleash hateful tirades against the passerby. Warning of death, everlasting torment in flames and crow about their seat in heaven being dusted and ready for them. The best of them would give a personal statement of their faith. This would usually involve a tale of woe. How they’d been a lost soul who drank to excess or took drugs, stole, committed adultery, lied and generally lived a life far from common standards of decency. They would then recount their own “road to Damascus” experience (will that phrase ever feel the same after this year in Syria?) They would describe how they had been a sinner and lost before becoming saved and joining the righteous. This salvation meant they had already booked their place in heaven. Not by deeds but by faith, they would shout.

As a child walking beside my mother, I felt no end of grievances against these proud characters. Having not yet had a chance to break many of the 10 Commandments it felt wrong to be berated by someone who had. An inverse of “let those without sin throw the first stone”. I wanted to enter into discussion with these perpetrators along the lines of Socrates. Plato describes a typical Socrates discussion with two Athenian generals about courage. Under Socrate’s questioning the generals finally admitted they no longer even understood what bravery meant. 

Not that I would've been equipped at all for such a debate. However, the longing to respond was ever in my heart. Invariably, I was told to be quiet and to keep up with my mother. The civil thing to do, it seemed, in the face of  demonic threats in the street was to walk past and ignore it. To act as if none of this was your business. Just keep your head down and keep going. That felt so cowardly to me. Why do individuals like this get to reprimand others, condemn them to hell or judge between the saved and the lost? I never liked that their idea of religion seem to consist in an abundance of hate and a deep satisfaction that most of us were bound for hell.

It has left me wanting to be silent on anything spiritual.  I would hate to make anyone I spoke to, feel as I did growing up in Northern Ireland. The idea of berating or belittling someone on the basis of their Faith appals me. Yet, I'm so interested in discussions on faith. This life after all is a spiritual journey, at its essence. Even atheists would agree that gaining virtues, principles, insights and aspiring to leave this world slightly better as a result of your presence is worthwhile.  

Socrates said :”[Man] is always becoming a new being and undergoing a process of loss and reparation, which affects ... his soul as well. No man's character, habits, opinions, desires, pleasures, pains, and fears remain always the same; new ones come into existence and old ones disappear.”

Around us are thousands of individuals who have already learned so much on their journey. Wouldn’t it be beneficial to discuss such things. Listen to what life has wrought in them. Be humble enough not to impose but absorb the insights they have gained. Strangely such conversations are often fraught. People will happily discuss the best car to invest in, their favourite team, their politics, their recent holiday, the programs they watch, but when the conversation is turned to spiritual or moral topics a veil can descend. As a cousin of mine so venomously snarled, ‘Get your hands of my soul” to an enquiry from an evangelistic neighbour. Discussions about religion can easily descend into arguments and heated exchanges. Neither of these is conducive to spiritual growth.

Is it self satisfaction or pride that blinds us to learning from others. Is it a fear of change or a desire to blindly imitate what we are familiar with at all costs?

Yet, when I have managed to have a conversation on prayer with a Muslim, a Christian or a Buddhist it has always been illuminating.  Not that one agrees with all one hears but that sacred space being shared is usually a positive experience. A Hindu friend spoke of as a child celebrating holy days in their community in Leicester. It involved her Indian mother baking huge cakes for the old people’s homes in their neighbourhood. That desire to do something kindly for the community was so ingrained in her as a child that 30 years later she found herself following her mother's example. She spoke of bringing boxes of cakes from her car and remembering her mother's presence so powerfully. My friend said, “Perhaps I do it in her name? I'm not sure why, but it makes me feel closer to her”. Another Muslim friend talked about waking every day to the sound of his father’s prayers filling their home. He felt blessed to be wakened by this call to God. He explained, “The word of God has a potency that influences those around us and can generate transformation”. When I discussed meditation with a Buddhist friend they spoke of how prayer to them was a calling out to God whereas silent meditation allowed a space to listen. He pointed out for him “in that stillness I discover the state of my own heart”. The agnostics I have met have often walked a practical spiritual path that is breathtaking. Focusing on deeds of service rather than acquiring any spiritual station they have sometimes managed to combine humility with magnanimous action. This they do, not on the weekly basis for the Sunday service but daily and even hourly with relentless integrity. There is much to learn from them.

Perhaps if we could have gathered round that shouting preacher we would've discussed spiritual pride and its disastrous consequences. Or the need not to judge another soul. Or even the fact that each of us is on a peculiar path that is unique.  That, the landscape we have emerged from, at that moment of meeting, is totally different and has shaped a human being we will never encounter the like of again. That, if we have the humility to learn at the feet of others we we may benefit from the windflowers of wisdom they have managed to pluck from their lives.

Doing the Headless Chicken

Sometimes, when you have experienced trauma the best remedy is to get right back on the horse as soon as possible. It's what everyone tells you in their eagerness to help you get over things. The theory is by climbing back into the situation that caused the fallout you can quickly close the book by creating fresh associations to correct the bad ones. A sort of memory hard drive rewrite. For me, eight years ago I had a gruesome experience in Brussels working as an independent science expert. I'd been two times before that and survived, but that third experience was a humiliation too far. Such things can be a mighty lesson in humility and a positive spur to growth on many levels. Akin to ploughing deeper to produce a better crop. That depth of disturbance can also, on the other hand, do damage. 

It took me around six years to be able to put the whole experience behind me. Every time I came back to write about it I felt re-traumatised. Stupid, really over something so minor.  When I could, eventually, put the whole experience in print, there was a catharsis of sorts. (for details see following link - Dragging my entrails behind me) I thought I'd settled the whole ghastly business. Then, the idea of getting back on the horse was put to me. What better way to erase horrible memories and to re-write them. When I re-applied I rather suspected that the EC would write back 

“WE REMEMBER WHAT YOU DID EIGHT YEARS AGO!! SOD OFF!! 

They didn't. I found myself summoned to Brussels again to deal with funding applications. By the fourth day in Brussels I was drowning yet again in a sea of fear and in a total state of despair. Loved ones on Skype were confronted by a tearful me, in my hotel room, trying to articulate why I was impersonating a headless chicken.

This is a state I instantly revert to when stress levels rise above a certain level. It is characterised by huge effort, energy, endeavour, a lot of hysteria but absolutely no progress. A similar incident occurred 15 years ago while I was working for a travel agent in Rhodes (Greece) as their financial person. Here, I can guarantee those who know me are snorting in disbelief that anyone would trust me with such financial responsibilities. Entering my typical headless chicken routine I can remember the 20-year-old supervisor furious that I could not add a page of expenses and get the right answer. Such was my state, that despite an Excel spreadsheet, my calculator and even a pen and pencil basic approach did not avail me. In such moments, my degree, my PhD in physics and my mental faculties have been removed from me. That's why I call it my headless chicken routine. In such a state even finding a toilet in a strange building/airport is beyond me. What is worse I have never cultivated the veneer of professionalism to hide my discomfort. Instead of acting like ‘it is alright’, which can convince many that you are more competent than you seem, I instead really despair in gigantic waves. Everyone in my vicinity instantly recognises my distress. To summarise, not only am I a headless chicken, but I am the sort who having lost my head race about bleeding and traumatising others in the process.

Back to Brussels. After conversations via Skype with loved ones I was able to formulate a plan of sorts. What I needed was a miracle. What else could help me but divine assistance?  With a strange mixture of resignation, fear and pleading in prayer, I realised a truth. Why do we only pray genuinely to God when we are totally helpless and devoid of hope? Is it that we can no longer rely on our own ability to fix things? Do we really need to have our uselessness exposed before we let go and trust. Perhaps helplessness rips away the veils that have interposed between us and our own hearts?

The next day was the last day in Brussels. There was  small window of opportunity. The deadline was midday and I flew out in the evening. There were different dynamics in place. That morning really nice people helped, progress was made. Once two or three reports were completed my confidence began to be resuscitated. I came out of my headless chicken routine and completed tasks on time. I'm so grateful for this. 

At times we forget to thank God for the things that work in our lives. Its good practice to cultivate an attitude of thankfulness. Not just because it is appropriate but because being grateful is conducive to happiness. Instead of looking around and seeing only what is wrong with our lives we begin to celebrate the unseen.  All that is good, our family our friends and our Faith.

The night I flew back from Brussels all the shootings and killings in Paris happened.  Such numbers dying, reminded me that my priorities needed re-calibrated. The fact that such events are happening in so many countries to people of different races and religions, damages us all in fundamental ways. 

“Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.”

(John Donne, English poet, 1572 – 1631) 

In responding to such events, a headless chicken response is just not appropriate nor productive. How often do I focus on things that don't deserve my attention or prayers? I want to be fuelled by sound principles not frenetic activity.   These principles should underpin my actions and my responses. These two are as far as I've got. I offer them for what they're worth, from one headless chicken to another.

“The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens.”

“Let deeds, not words, be your adorning.”

(two quotes from Baha’i writings)

"I am ever so humble, I am!"

“Thou shalt find the wayfarer to be lowly before all men and humble before all things”

“the wayfarer must not claim the seat of honour in any gathering or walk before others in the desire to vaunt and exalt himself”[1]

Humility, these days, is associated with subservience.  Its archetype was that toady, horrid character we remember from Dicken’s classic novel (David Copperfield), “I am ever so humble, I am”  I was  struck by Charles Dicken’s own reading concerning this character.  He manages to put so much odious quality in his voice while speaking as Uriah Heep one feels instant dislike for the distinctive creepy Uriah.  

Until I saw this video I had no idea what an excellent narrator this author was. Despite all his protestations Uriah was far from humble but for some reason he epitomises what people have grown to assume is humility.  We have been trained in literature and history to admire the brave, the audacious, the straight talking hero and humility has been tarnished with a creeping form of cowardism.  

Of course true humility is far from such false simpering or fear of superiors.  In its truest from humility is that conviction of the nobility of humanity.  A station so exalted that there can be no other approach but humble recognition.  Too often each of us fall far short of what we could and should be.  Nonetheless, our capacity is great.  What we choose to do with that gift can be appalling. Training ourselves to approach others convinced of their high station does many things,

1. we become aware of our own shortcomings instead of those we meet.
2. we begin to look for signs of nobility in all we meet

These two attitudes have consequences that are transformative for the individual and our communities.  It enhances progress as we are forced to reflect on our own station and then implement change.  Also, because we approach others looking for the good, it is that we focus on.  Even if they have nine bad qualities and only one good, with true humility it is that single virtue we choose to observe and learn from.

"Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less."[2] 

How we perceive ourselves and the world is critical.  If we sense the inevitable corrosion and corruption around us it is disheartening and strangely incapacitating.  Whereas, feeling that we are part of a positive plan for this world encourages us to play our role.  If Gandhi had focussed on the prejudice and hatred between Muslim and Hindu communities he could not have engineered peaceful protest and become a potent symbol for change.  It was not that he was uniformed or ignorant of the disunity it was merely his entire focus was on implementing spiritual principles.  He was convinced their practical application would be of lasting benefit to everyone.  This ability to spot the spiritual principle underpinning an issue is transformative on both the individual and our society.

---

[1] (Bahá’í Writings)

[2] C S Lewis

Humility exalteth man

When you mention humility people look askance.  It is such an old fashioned word.  Today the language is all about self confidence, that can do, capable, independent spirit we all long to have.  But humility, no, that is something we just wish others would have!  I was having a discussion about this with some friends and one felt that humility felt to her like being on her knees and being told to get lower.  That prompted an interesting discussion about what humility actually is and about self esteem and pride.  It was fascinating to hear all the different perspectives on this issue.

There’s a lovely quote about humility by Rick Warren

“Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less. “

So humility is not about thinking less of yourself but about taking the focus somewhere else entirely.  St Augustine put it differently but more practically in terms of building foundations.

 “Do you wish to be great? Then begin by being. Do you desire to construct a vast and lofty fabric? Think first about the foundations of humility. The higher your structure is to be, the deeper must be its foundation.”

 

What a lovely image of us needing to build foundations to what we are and humility providing those very vital structures.  Something solid on which everything else can be built.  

The benefits of humility and the dangers of pride are dealt with beautifully and succinctly in this quote from Baha'u'llah.

“Humility exalteth man to the heaven of glory and power, whilst pride abaseth him to the depths of wretchedness and degradation.”

So if we are to become greater than we are now, start by building the foundations, acquire humility.  We need to build ourselves on something solid and pride does not help.