which player are you?

This is a quiz to figure out what kind of player you are. First spin the wheel at the bottom of this posting and then find the account that represents that chess piece.

King

As the most important player there are many that forget you are central to the purpose of the whole game of life. The fact that your speed and strength is minimal only disguises your position of importance. Don’t let slow small daily steps blind you to this reality. Without you all is lost. Everyone can sacrifice themselves in your defence because your protection is vital. You are like a royal falcon that soars but if you allow yourself to become besmirched with unworthy pursuits you will miss the whole point of your existence.! 

Queen

You tower above everyone in strength of character and inner power. Such capacity and drive is found very rarely. At times it is hidden, like a sheathed sword, but when you take action your true nature dominates and influences beyond your conception. Remember that high thoughts have little significance unless translated into the field of action. Make sure your strengths and capacity find correct direction and focus. Your excellence will arise from service to humanity not in personal glory or adulation of others. Don’t let how others perceive you become a veil between you and your own heart.! 

pawn

The most insignificant piece and the most common. The slowest and least agile. But the first to initiate and with perseverance can go to the final scene of life totally transformed into the most powerful player on the board. Such an unexpected metamorphosis lies in your own determination and patience. The person you are meant to be is closer than your life vein, believe it!! 

Bishop

By associating with those in power or with with wealth you can lose the purity and power that becomes you. Breaking free of the confined set/court your ability to dominate across wide fields of activity is clear. Your vision once cleared enables action in areas that are of inestimable value to humanity. See with your own eyes and not through the eyes of others.! 

Rook/Castle

You begin constrained and confined. These early days do not allow you the movement and sweeping endeavours that call to you. Gradually, your real worth will become apparent. You are a salve to those around you. A shelter in testing times and a real fortress of well-being. With the right partnership in life your considerable powers become enhanced and unbeatable. 

knight

You are unique in nature but also in how you operate. This distinction gives you traction when others are blocked in or confined. Being different from all the rest gives you skills that can match and indeed surpass much stronger players. Have confidence in who you are not in what others expect from you. Don’t be of those whose words differ from their deeds! 

Finding yourself among the lemmings

Am listening to Guardians of Galaxy sound track.  Don’t know why I like it so much.  There is a lightness about the songs that lifts my heart.  Years ago we all made cassettes of our favourite music and surrounded ourselves with that daydreaming space that they brought.  Then life becomes more serious and we get older and somehow listening to music became something that you do when you put the radio on, or overhear in the background on films.  Incidental and by accident as if an hour of listening to exactly what you wanted was an indulgence too far.  

I also remember playing non stop an American self help tape about making goals and achieving them.  Very assertive and formulaic.  In sure tones you were told that everything in life was possible you just had to have a clear vision of what you wanted, plan the steps to get there and have a clear finishing date for completion.  Reflection was a tool to be used to adjust to set backs and accelerate achievements.  People could and would he pointed out get in your way.  You had to build up momentum to weather such blocks.  Like a sailboat you needed movement to catch the wind and avoid becoming be stilled.  Keeping moving also did not let people cling to you and slow your progress.  Having go getters around you helped your goal attainment, he said.  Learn from the winners, he repeated twice in ringing tones.

What a load of shit!  My conclusion is this guy got things all wrong.  Achieving goals can be the biggest waste of a life.  It can blind you to the only really important thing in your life.  It can mean sacrificing the only  people that matter for some crap you only think you need.  The reason being rich is such a burden is the time you end up spending with other selfish rich assholes.  They can effectively steal from you the precious time that life has given you.  Whether that is time with your kids, your parents, your community or your partner there is simply nothing that compensates for that loss.  Don’t kid yourself that in some mystic future you will be thanked for all the hard work you put in, the houses that you bought, the money that you acquired.  All of it is actually worth less than the black dot in the eye of an ant.  Finding that out can be traumatic.  Especially, when it has been the compass of one’s life.  Instead of looking around you at those on a similar path take a step back and examine the quality of your life and the people in it.  We can discover that we are following ‘lemming like’ a lifestyle that does not make us happy but one we perversely cling to because everyone else is running alongside us doing the same.

There is a certain comfort in knowing we are following a familiar and crowded path.  But ultimately there is a part of you that has a unique sound track that will make you happy in a way no other can.     Find it fast, step back and look around at all the people you see around you daily on streets, at work, shopping.  Recognise the high percentage of them that are truly miserable and make another choice.  Dig up your favourite song tracks and make your soundtrack, a good hour at least, and then just listen.  Listen to where your thoughts go, what reflections bubble up, good or bad.  Allow daydreaming, watching sunsets, admiring nature and even silences into your life.  In the stillness of your own personal place find you.  Remember what makes you tick and smile.  Allow memories to be triggered rather than appetites fed.  Stop coping with what life throws, with the challenges of others and find and claim space for you.  You are so worth it.

PS It is surprising to find that the lemmings throwing themselves off cliffs is rather an urban myth.  Apparently, a 1958 documentary called Wild wilderness by Disney won awards and acclaim showed lemmings diving off cliffs.  It turns out that there is no proof that an assemblage of wild lemmings would actually carry out such mass suicide.  The film makers chased the animals off the cliff to good effect! It did win them an Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature.  You can watch the original above. 

Sitting put, Restless ripples

I sit in silence

the sun sets

Tiny ripples on a blue bedspread

easy, easing thoughts

erasing my mind gradually

until I feel only my weight

on this bench

heavily substantial

anchored to the spot

my mind roaming free

in need of purpose and direction

stationary and abreech

making little headway

rocking on one spot

the line of the horizon

measures out my being

the sea beckons

but my anchor has stuck hard

going nowhere fast

restless ripples of

useless endeavour

Rain and resilience

First day back in Malta after six weeks in the UK. The heat feels such a shock. Even as I stepped out of the plane at 9 in the evening the temperature was incredible. You tend to forget when staying in the UK that in these southern climes it is the hot sweaty nights that surprise you.  Mind you, it is rich of me to complain so quickly, as in Northern Ireland we have had probably the worst summer ever. In fact, it is more truthful to say that summer was all but cancelled with constant windy rainy weather. 

Every morning in Northern Ireland when the TV weather forecast began my mother would snort in a mixture of both outrage and laughter at the bleak predictions. You could tell the weather forecaster was scraping the bottom of the barrel when he suggested there may be a chance of a tiny bit of sunshine for a brief period mid-morning. There wasn’t, but you know he had to think of something else to say other than, “it's going to be another piss poor day again today”. Coming from the intense heat in Malta in July, I was initially overjoyed with the cool crisp days in Northern Ireland. I waxed lyrical about the greenness of everything and the joy of needing a quilt at night. But after a month of dismal weather and no sign of a blue sky I was beginning to tire of indoor living. 

You can dress for Irish weathers. My aunt dons an all-weather outfit and walks come hail or snow every day. But not all of us have her determination.  When I open the door and it's lashing down, grey clouds being whisked with a vicious wind - my willpower wilts. Not all are as chicken as me! I regularly spotted women wearing their summer gear, tank tops, short skirts and sandals walking along streets sodden with rain.  It was as if they’d decided, 

“I bought my summer outfits, it is August and I'm wearing them - dam it! After all, it will be 12 months until there is a possibility of another summer. Goodness knows what size I’ll be then! What fashion changes might take place?” 

There was a sort of brave resilience about them.  Rather like the family on the beach in Portrush. They all wore anoraks over their swimsuits as they dug in the sand on the beach in driving relentless rain. You have to admire their tenacity. 

I've walked to my favourite cafe here in Malta. It was blissful to step into the air conditioning from the blistering heat. I only arrived yesterday, so I am still examining the clear blue sky with an air of UK expectancy. Surely it will rain soon? Do I have my umbrella? 

I've just read the Malta Times, filled with angst against politicians and their corruption. I suspect if you open the newspaper in many countries the language and climate will be different, but some problems seem universal. Time to head off home back along the coast hugging any shade I can find.

Falling and false fancies

On the 31st of July I was visiting my son and family in Folkstone with my mum.  We had flown over to look after my grandson while his childminder was off on holiday.  He is a delightful child and full of energy as only a 2 year old can be.  My mum and I worked together and found it delightful getting to know this little chap.  

There is something about being the major caretakers that creates a bond between you and a small child.  There is also much laughter and smiles when small children are involved.   Every night when my mum took her medication Charlie would haul himself up on the  sofa to get a better view of her taking her inhaler, sprays, pills, lotions etc and roar with laughter at the sight.  It was as if she was putting on a nightly show for his entertainment.  He never tired of this routine and his reaction made us laugh each night.  

Seeing a small child examine the sea, the stones, the insects reminds you of the amazing world we live in.  It is all so completely new to him you are reminded of the miracle of even the simplest thing around you.  Then on the third day while walking Charlie along the sea front my mum fell.  It was a bad fall and somehow both she and Charlie ended up on the ground.  My mum’s injuries were considerable and included a fractured elbow, bruised ribs, a colourful blow to the side of the head and a large bleeding wound to the arm.  Picture the scene, a two year old crying on the ground with a small cut to his palm and my eighty two year old mother lying not far away in agony.  We were on an isolated promenade by the sea and quite some distance from a road or town.  

As we pondered what to do a couple of joggers appeared, aged 20- 30 both male.  I supported my mother’s shoulders on the ground waiting for the shock to pass and the two joggers passed us by without a word.  A distraught two year old and a bleeding eighty year-old were obviously not on their exercise programme that day.  I asked Charlie to bring his great granny some water from the buggy and with tears running down his cheeks he raced to the buggy and brought the water bottle. 

Three weeks have passed and recovery has been slow, painful and steady.  The medical staff in Folkstone were fantastic, my son and his wife looked after us with much love but what sticks in my head for some reason is the sight of those two joggers ignoring us.  They had to run around all three of us.  I keep wondering what on earth were they thinking?  Was there some other priority that took precedence?  There are times when you just have to scratch your head and wonder, just what is going on in this world.  Has present day isolation taught us to be immune to human suffering?  Does the plight of others leave us cold and indifferent?    Are we all too busy with our own concerns to react?  I have no answers but only questions.  Can we even see those less fortunate than ourselves?  Do we see the world we live in and those we share it with?  

Through the eyes of a two year old this world is beautiful full of beauty.  Charlie is still at that stage that he greets everyone in a cafe as though they were his best friends.  He is as fascinated with an ant as an eagle.  All of this world is there waiting to be discovered and enjoyed.  At what stage on life’s journey do we turn away from each other and cease to care?  Does our inability to register the needs of others coincide with our inability to be truly happy?  

Three things that bring happiness!

I read recently that the three things that make most people happy are

Going to sleep in a freshly changed bed

Feeling the sun on your face

 and the third was experiencing acts of unexpected kindness from strangers

I found this quite cheering. I honestly didn’t think that these things would be high on most people’s list.  Mind you, what makes you happy really depends on what you have experienced previously.  For example, if you have been in hospital visiting a loved one the one thing that will tick all your boxes is their speedy recovery and return home.  Alternatively, if you yourself have had a severe accident or illness and are at present stuck in hospital you probably have a much more basic and immediate wish list.

to be able to pass urine or stools - it is a little known fact that under severe trauma the body shuts off what it sees as unnecessary options and all things toilet fall under that

being flat on your back unable to turn means your desire to be able to turn onto your side becomes an exquisite luxury and sitting up unaided a distant goal

the dependence on others is such a reminder of one’s intolerable situation that any degree of regaining your own ability to wash, eat and move is seen as a tremendous step forward

It always amazes me that hospital life when you are in one, constricts to become your whole world.  When you manage to leave it is as if you find yourself in a different part of the universe.  These two places exist together but there is some mental moat that cuts us off from hospitals perhaps to protect us.  To remember those lying in hospital beds struggling with pain and fear is too much to assimilate on a daily basis so we edit it out.  That seems to make things much better.  But such choices often mean we are not seeing the world we actually live in.  Children and young people are  no longer taken to visit the dying or elderly in hospital.  It is considered too traumatic for them to contemplate such things.  Yet pretending such things do not exist or happen does not prepare them for their own life’s journey.  We can botox and facelift all we like, eventually things do not go well.  Hanging onto youth is a waste of time.  Ageing is remorseless.  As a witty old uncle whispered to me at a family gathering, “This ageing is not for ginnies!”  (ginnies - those with a nervous disposition/cowards)  It was the same uncle who over heard me criticising Northern Ireland politics and announced, “It’s a poor bird that shits in its own nest!”  

There are those who do not forget the reality of hospital life, who choose a different path.  My mother’s neighbour here used to be a Dr Blair.  He was a minister and his wife was suffering from dementia.  Regularly she would come to my parent's door and demand to be let in.  Dr Blair would come round and kindly lead her home apologising graciously.  Dr Blair was ill himself and a great age.  He walked with difficulty and much pain.  You felt he was not long for this world.  But each day he visited the wards of the local hospital going from bed to bed having sweet conversations.  I once sat and listened as he spoke to a dying man in the next bed.  This was no lecture full of brimstone and fire threats.  He talked honestly and listened.  He let them discuss death and what they feared and felt.  He did not rush to reassure with words.  He held hands and stroked shoulders.  He asked about their loved ones, about their life, asked if they wanted water or a fan.  When he spoke about dying, it was as if he too would soon be taking that final journey and the two of them were just fellow travellers on a well worn path.  He mentioned his own feelings and failings.  There was laughter too, unexpected and raw.  Usually, because Dr Blair was not good on his feet and fell quite often.  He would apologise for his bleeding head, knee or hand with the same expression, “I’m sorry, I know I’m a terrible sight but there you go!” I couldn’t understand why this was greeted with howls of laughter by the patients around him.  But after a week, I too found his bloodied presence therapy for mind and soul.  I think it was his total humility and refreshing honesty - it brought a fresh breeze into the ward.  He made us all want to be better human beings in whatever time we had left to us.  So perhaps I agree with that first list of things that make us happy and Dr Blair was a perfect example of a stranger showing unexpected acts of kindness.  May your life be touched by just such a stranger.

A strange diabetes of the soul

I was near Folkestone last week wondering around quaint villages with chocolate box gardens manicured to within a fraction of perfection. They have had a lovely sunny summer so cafes have moved outdoors. Tiny smart tables perched on paving stones are edged by happy grey-haired pensioners neatly apparelled. You get the feeling this is an affluent bunch and having all the basics fret about the floral display out front. Have they chosen wisely or do colours clash? Is that a weed mounting a rearguard action on the rose border? Everywhere there are shops selling bric-a-brac. Upmarket stuff such as watches, jewellery, furniture and war memorabilia. I fear as the elderly pass away here, their worldly goods are vomited into these cluttered shops. It reminds me of the Isle of Wight, twenty odd years ago, where huge baskets of personal mementoes were displayed as abundant as the tourists that flood there in the summer. 

The problem is we are not good custodians. This generation is a use and dump lot. I include myself. My mother's generation kept heirlooms, first world war medals, delph from great grandmother’s dressers and even her own wedding dress and veil from over 60 years ago is carefully stored. Because I moved from country to country my mother has become an unwilling custodian of my junk too. Things are packed in tissue paper stored in vacuum seal or filed in different coloured folders.  Her attention to detail and painstaking tidiness is in direct opposition to my sorting capacities which invariably involve a trip to the dump. There I offloads huge quantities of stuff with great satisfaction. Every time I visit I intend to clear all my debris from her life. Always I am floored by that group of belongings that mean too much to throw away (like my 20 years of diaries) but are impossible to take with me. 

The developed world suffers from too much stuff. It is a real problem. Once driving across Canada we came upon field after field of storage container . Acres of them storing the debris of their owners lives. Unable to throw their belongings away they pay to have them stored at appropriate temperature and humidity to keep them preserved. All these containers and indeed dumps seem huge monuments to our present-day fixation of acquiring things. Everywhere, postmen and and couriers hurry up driveways to deliver yet more parcels. We are fond of these packages which make every day feel like a celebration. The only problem is our homes have only so much capacity. Cupboards become full, the garage’s overflowing and attics creak with their loads. So our excesses end up in the nearest landfill.  It is a metaphor for what we truly value. It is what we increasingly fuel our lives with, but at what cost. And I don't even mean financially. The things that distract us from the most important essential aspects of life are to be feared not embraced. 

Instead of sustaining our spirits we suffer from a strange diabetes of the soul. Materialism is attachment to the insistent self. We require a fire that burns away veils and leads us closer to spiritual reality. Prayer is the essential spiritual conversation of the soul with God. It is a spiritual food that sustains the life of the spirit. When we sincerely start on the path of spiritual search, true contemplation and meditation illumines our path. Our hearts are gladdened and uplifted but even more importantly our priorities realign. Earthly inclinations are transmuted into heavenly attributes and our actions become inspired by selfless service to humanity. The results can be breathtaking. We don't need to buy containers of stuff. In each of us there is a richness closer than our life vein. May we all find the space and time to become the person we were destined to be and our actions contribute to a better society.

"O God! Refresh and gladden my spirit. Purify my heart. Illumine my powers. I lay all my affairs in Thy hand. Thou art my Guide and my Refuge. I will no longer be sorrowful and grieved; I will be a happy and joyful being. O God! I will no longer be full of anxiety, nor will I let trouble harass me. I will not dwell on the unpleasant things of life.
     O God! Thou art more friend to me than I am to myself. I dedicate myself to Thee, O Lord."

‘Abdu’l-Bahá