Last week had a lovely highlight: a trip up to London to the Barbican theatre to see the 1930s Cole Porter musical “Anything Goes”. Gloriously silly and very much of its time it was still a delight; slick, great costumes and set, and with some well known songs and good tap sequences. The theatre was packed. Yes packed! Some people were masked many were not. I opted for the latter state! I didn’t really want to sit there for the best part of three hours with my face covered in cloth. However, it seems that I have paid a small price for this as on Saturday I developed a sore throat. Of course the first thought was whether I had contracted the dreaded covid. However, the lateral flow test indicated not. I do have a theory, which might well be wrong, that too much sanitising and mask wearing will ultimately make us more vulnerable to a wider range of infections. I seem to recall when the children were little reading that they needed to be in contact with dirt! Bleaching every surface may not ultimately be the best policy. Immune systems need challenging. Mine has been challenged this week. Over the next few days my cold developed. It is many years since I have had a cold and this one seemed to knock me for six. It’s probably because of not sleeping well but I felt particularly drained and have shut myself away, cocooned with the cats.
However, at 2.00am when you are alone and still not asleep because your nose is blocked, it is easy for gloom to set in. All the big questions about your life emerge alongside that inner voice which tells you things are not good. I will not make public my catalogue of inner woes but they were very much there. However, I am fortunate in that I have my ‘rescue remedy’ for such occasions. There are a number of writers who I would class as my spiritual teachers who over the years have consistently shifted me out of despair. I am going to share two of them here because they might well be helpful to others. Top of my list would be Eckhart Tolle, and it was one of his audiobooks which shifted me from gloom to acceptance at 2.00am on Monday morning. I first came across Tolle in about 2002 when I read his book “The Power of Now”. Since then I have bought a number of audio recordings which I listen to when I feel I might have lost my way. There are many things about his teaching which I like but perhaps top of the list would be that I recognise so much of what he says as being true through my experience. So this is not about ‘belief’. The essence of his teaching is that the source of so much of our suffering is identification with the thinking mind and its incessant chatter. As we become increasingly aware of this the option arises to become aware of the stillness underneath. And the stillness is always embracing and loving. The teaching is also of the deep acceptance of how things are in this moment. Life always happens in the present moment and fighting against that or endlessly focusing on a better future moment is a potential source of suffering. Of course this does not mean we don’t take action to bring about change but the action which arises out of acceptance often has greater power.
One of my other favourites is John O’Donohue. John was an ordained priest who came from the West of Ireland. He died unexpectedly in 2008. John was steeped not only in philosophy and theology but also in Celtic consciousness, non-duality and Meister Eckhart (look them up!) He wrote about so many things - landscape, our need for beauty, longing and belonging, love and wisdom. Much of his thought was expressed in poems and blessings and his voice carries a beautiful Irish lyricism. One of my favourite poems is entitled Beannacht which simply means blessing. It is so beautiful. At the end I will put a link to hear him read it.
It is now Friday lunch time and I am pleased to say I feel much better. But this little detour into feeling ill has reminded me, yet again, of how fortunate we are when we are well and how we take it for granted.
Beannacht by John O'Donohue
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets into you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green
and azure blue,
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
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