Reflection #93 (17th November 2024 at Essex Church / Kensington Unitarians)
As I said at the beginning of the service, our focus this morning is on staying in touch with what’s still good in the world – reconnecting with our sources of uplift and joy – even when our personal situation is really tough, or the world seems to be falling apart, or it’s all happening at once. I don’t know if this resonates with you, but at times when I’m feeling all too painfully aware of all the horrors going on around the world – the brutality of war, genocide, and creeping fascism are right up in our faces (not to mention all the more bloodless forms of cruelty like austerity that have been drip, drip, dripping away for years) – and the impact of all this is getting ever closer to home – in these times I do feel some kind of duty to at the very least bear witness to these horrible aspects of our shared reality (and, as far as is possible, make whatever small contribution I can to resist the world’s evils). Sometimes I find myself feeling a kind of pressure, coming both from within and without – a nagging sense that it’s wrong to turn away from it all – almost obscene for me to just go on living my nice life, having a laugh, enjoying myself, while so many others are suffering, and the planet is burning.
I think that view is not entirely without merit… but this is one of those ‘both/and’ service topics. Maybe some of us are more temperamentally inclined to stay in touch with what’s going on in the world, and we find it hard to look away from the latest outrage and injustice we’ve been made aware of. Maybe some of us just find it all too overwhelming, and focus on doing our bit closer to home. Maybe some of us do bury our heads in the sand, and simply avoid engaging with this tough stuff.
I suppose the heart of today’s message is to encourage each of us to stay awake and pay attention to what’s real – both the good and the bad bits of life – and to strike a better balance in where we put our awareness and attention. On the one hand – it is really important to bear witness to suffering and injustice – and use whatever means we have at our disposal to push back against the wrongs we see. On the other hand – if we focus relentlessly on horror and awfulness we are liable to drown in despair – and that doesn’t help anybody really – so we must make sure we regularly come up for air. So many of us are caught up in it – this feeling of impotence at being unable to stop bad things happening – of metaphorically watching dozens of car crashes unfold in slow motion all around the planet each day. It is all too easy to feel overwhelmed and crushed by the scale of it. And I suspect that’s when we’re more likely to become fatalistic, engage in denial, or disengage altogether and just look the other way.
Activist burnout is definitely a thing too – I’ve known a number of good, kind, passionate people who have made themselves physically and mentally ill through trying to save the world single-handed – people whose conscience calls them to make great sacrifices for the greater good and who find it intolerable to sit on the sidelines – such people sometimes rail at those of us who don’t seem to be pulling our weight in the struggle for liberation. And I understand this too – though such righteous anger can sometimes alienate potential allies – but we really do need all hands on deck for this task.
However, if we are going to do our bit for the betterment of the world, we need to be in it for the long haul, and this will require us to engage in practices of renewal on a regular basis. We need to periodically regroup and regather our strength for the fight. And that’s what I want to remind you of today: it is vital to take time to reconnect with the good things in life, the things that make life worth living, and reach out to others who care about the things that really matter for mutual support. Let’s give ourselves permission to enjoy ourselves – It is alright to fully live this life we’ve been given – even when the world is apparently falling apart around us. We can still gather together to sing, dance, make art. If it makes you happy you can wear your brightest frock to church – to paraphrase Victoria Safford, in the piece Sonya read earlier, you can: ‘punctuate your days with sacred celebration and with rituals signifying joy, no matter what you have – or don’t – to work with, no matter what fury the world outside is howling. Savour life and breath and all you days no matter what is dealt to you.’
I don’t often set homework for you but this week I’ve put a little green slip in your orders of service – it’s inspired by the words of David Budbill we reflected on for our meditation today – ‘Every day we need a little poem of kindness, a small song of peace, a brief moment of joy.’
In the week to come I invite you – I might even go so far as to say I encourage you – to collect or create a brief moment of joy each day and jot it down on your little green handout (and if you’re at home you can get all this information on the website and create your own list). This might involve noticing the good stuff that is already happening around you or it might involve going out of your way to make good things happen. I’m hoping this might kickstart a habit of finding these moments of joy – of ‘light relief’, indeed – regardless of what else is going on in your life and the wider world… if you manage to keep it up for a week, see if you can keep it going through advent and beyond (and if you miss a day don’t let that stop you! You can just carry on the next day…)
On the back of the little slip I’ve printed some suggestions you might try (some of these were crowdsourced from my friends on Facebook and some I’ve already done myself this week): Maybe look up some music you used to listen to when you were a kid, or a teenager, and sing along (or dance) with gusto to your old favourites (I was singing along to Doctor and the Medics’ ‘Spirit in the Sky’ this week and I know Jeannene liked that one in her teenage years too). Or reach out to reconnect with a friend who you haven’t been in touch with for too long and let them know you’re thinking of them fondly. Perhaps spend some time playing (or cuddling up) with a friendly cat or dog (or if you don’t have access to any pets watch cute cat and dog videos online). This is a big one – create something! – write a poem, draw a picture, take a photo, knit a scarf, bake a cake – or just set aside ten minutes for a quick burst of creative play (if you have watercolours, felt tips, plasticine to hand). Or you could do a random act of kindness for a neighbour or a stranger – or express your specific and sincere appreciation towards a friend or acquaintance – right out of the blue. How about going out to a beautiful place in nature that you don’t manage to get to often (or you’ve always meant to go but not got round to). Or spending time in a familiar place with the intent of noticing and appreciating your usual surroundings with fresh eyes.
See how you get on with this – I look forward to hearing more – maybe tell our WhatsApp group.
I want to close with some words from Rick Hanson – he’s a Buddhist-leaning psychologist, and senior fellow of UC Berkeley’s Greater Good Centre, and a all-round good egg who I’ve got a lot of time for – and he shared these words of wisdom a few days after the US election: ‘Throughout history, most people have lived under tough conditions while still finding their ways to be happy. If they could do it, we can, too. Know that most things are beyond your control. Try to accept this fact, and uncertainty, and not always knowing. [And then…] What brings you to peace? Neurologically, it helps to raise your gaze, look out a window, take a bird’s-eye view. Take some breaths, with the exhalations longer than the inhalations. Tune into the internal sensations of breathing, which will help to quiet inner chatter. Look around and see so many things that are [as yet] unaffected by the political ups and downs: trees reaching for the sky, birds flying, friends cooking dinner, good music, laughter, love flowing. Turn toward whatever are reliable sources of well-being and comfort and wisdom for you: perhaps the simple taste of a banana, the hug of a friend, the eager look in your dog’s eyes, the vastness of the night sky, the onward developments of science, the perennial insights of the great teachers, or the simple rainbow beauty of an oil sheen in a puddle.’
Wise words from Rick Hanson. And may it be so for the greater good of all. Amen.
Reflection by Jane Blackall