Alchemy of love

My son attended a parent-teacher meeting this week and the P1 teacher waxed lyrical about his youngest child. She pointed out that he was exceptionally loving and kind. Always full of joy and eager to volunteer in activities. The teacher said that a new Spanish student who spoke absolutely no English had joined their class and our grandson had appointed himself her guide and led her from one activity to another by hand. Floored by all this praise my son pushed the teacher to let him know what areas my grandson still needed to focus on and improve. Reluctantly, the teacher pointed out that he had not yet mastered the skill of holding a pencil! How sweet was that Scottish P1 teacher to focus on only the positives. A hug to all the hard-working teachers whose kindness and perceptions help rear noble souls.

My uncle in New Zealand is practically blind and every Friday his in-laws hold an evening meal where everyone starts the event by stating one thing they are particularly grateful for that week. All ages participate even the three-year year-old twins.  What a lovely way to end the week in such a positive tone. My uncle’s contribution was his gratitude for a young man who had spotted my uncle trying to navigate his way into a toilet cubicle in a busy restaurant. Realising he was finding it tricky the young guy helped him locate the door handle and even opened it. Then, when my uncle had finished, the same young man waited outside the cubicle and escorted him to the taps and then the dryer. My uncle said this unexpected kindness filled him with hope for this younger generation. A big thanks to the youth out there who have not forgotten to care for the vulnerable and provide a lesson to the rest of us.

Finally, I attended the funeral of a dear friend of mine from Omagh this year. She was one of those quiet folks whose presence was always strangely comforting. The funeral was high in the mountains in a forest 7 miles from the town. I had to trust the Sat Nav to find it along twisting forest roads. The venue was well hidden along a path in the woods. Despite this, I was shocked to find the room was absolutely packed with people. In fact, the staff kept having to add extra rows of chairs, one after another as more people flooded in. Just when they thought that that was it, another crowd arrived to pay their respects. So eventually wall-to-wall with others standing in the doorway and corridors they carried in the coffin and the entire room rose as one to their feet in silence as she was carried to the front of the room. Speaker after speaker spoke about her kindness and quietness. How acts of thoughtfulness were practised by her as a normal routine that had touched so many. We all became aware of just what a giant of love we had lost. The feeling of gratitude for a life well lived grew. 

Much thanks to all those quiet, selfless souls that operate beneath the radar but work their special alchemy of love in hearts across the world.

"Do not be content with showing friendship in words alone, let your heart burn with loving-kindness for all who may cross your path."

ʻAbdu'l-Bahá

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world

I have not written anything in weeks, perhaps months. Sometimes my lack of creativity is a result of anxiety, stress or upset. I usually find my mental state is in direct proportion to my creative output. But actually, this past period, Christmas and the New Year, has been a wonderful time with family and friends in Northern Ireland.

2018 was not a great year, I have to say. I lost far too many family and friends. I remember loved ones living or dead each morning and night. I write their initials down as they are recalled. The list is burnt into my memory with repetition but this year suddenly a host of new initials have been added.

I recall what my dad used to say in his 80s, “I have more loved ones in the next world than here, in this one”. It was a strange sensation, he said, to dream and be surrounded by those who have loved you and awake to find them gone. What is the mystery of this dream world where emotions run riot and our subconscious thoughts, past experiences and even future seem to flow together?

Because of such precious time over the festive period with loved ones I came back to Malta buoyed up with injections of energy and love. Wonderful conversations have worked their magic. Laughter quieted down the worries of this world. Instead of longing for all the things I don’t have there is a powerful sense of gratitude for all that I have been given.

Then, in the New Year this second week, news arrives of yet another loss. A dear friend who I visited only a week ago has died. When I called he had been in bed at home and was bone tired. When roused he lifted his head and opened his eyes seeming to recognise me. Then, he lay back into a deep restful slumber. Suddenly far, far away in a dream world and a better one. He was a Buddhist for much of his life and had meditated for an hour each day. It made him ever centred and calm.            

People brought him their problems because of that still centre. He was an excellent counsellor. Not one of the ‘new age’ bunch that prattle on “tell me more” without any valuable input of their own. Fear of litigation has created a new species of counsellor who say nothing for fear of doing harm. Given their lack of real experience and sometimes questionable motives it is perhaps not wrong for this to be their aspiration!

But real counsellors like him listened intently and then spoke to the issues raised. He never claimed the guru status or assumed he knew all the answers. The views he expressed were not channelled from a mystic source. Instead, they came from years of experience in healthcare, management and life. They were often insightful, at times unexpected, but always useful. The fact that his words never came from a desire for power or control but instead from a deep understanding and humility made them all the more welcome.

Utterance has the power to destroy or rejuvenate but real understanding can bring progress and healing. His honesty and humility allowed real consultation to take place and important truths to emerge.

For all those we have lost I find myself mourning their absence but also celebrating their loving presence in my memory banks and heart.  Today, when another dear friend’s funeral takes place in N. Ireland I am reminded of these heart-wrenching lines by a Pulitzer poetry prize winner.

“Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.”

Edna St. Vincent Millay