Crying, Waiting, Hoping Part 2

Cuthbert, a Celtic Christian, who was on Holy Island, England, after Aidan, practiced his discipline or discipleship through night vigils, often going to extreme remedies to keep alert (like standing for hours up to his chest in the sea!) Often he sang psalms and no doubt watched the sunrise as he prayed.

Hundreds of years later the Beatles also stayed up half the night playing the clubs in Hamburg. Unlike Cuthbert, they didn’t have the cold North Sea to keep them awake and resorted to ‘uppers’ and ‘downers’ to regulate their body clock.

I often wonder if the Beatles in the early 60s would have found greater solace in the Psalms than they did with their faith in chemical and alcoholic alternatives. What if they had taken to heart the advice from Psalm 37 alongside their rejection from Decca?

‘Don’t be impatient for God to act! Keep travelling along his pathway and in due season he will honour you with every blessing’

Perhaps they would have remembered Psalm 37, before they stepped off the plane in America in 1964, giving thanks for their patience and hope in God, as the world lay at their musically talented feet?

I Love The Psalms as they don't hold back on real feelings and emotions. We can all get impatient for things to happen, especially all the Old Testament Prophets!

John Lennon himself is considered by many, including myself, to be a profound prophet for peace. John and Yoko sang as one: “All we are saying is give peace a chance”. Unlike the Beatles’ emergence onto the pop scene, John never got to see his plea for world peace become a reality in his lifetime.

An Old Testament Bible prophet called Habakkuk who lived in Judah around 600BC, shared John Lennon’s sentiments about conflict and war, or absence of peace. The following quote is headed up ‘Habakkuk’s complaint’, although today it reads like a rant to me!

‘How long O Lord, must I call for help, 

but you do not listen.

Or cry out to you, “Violence” but you do not save?

Why do you make me look at injustice?

Why do you tolerate wrong?

Destruction and violence are before me,

There is strife and conflict abounds.’

When Habakkuk finally stops to draw breath; God replies:

Your vision is for an appointed time..though it lingers, wait for it; it will certainly come and it will not delay.’

Perhaps when we are in our situation of “Crying, Waiting, Hoping” the issue is that we are too keen to rush God’s timing? Perhaps we should be like the Beatles, preparing the way with disciplined practice and faith, waiting in hope for our God inspired vision or dream to come to fruition?

I feel that the actual timing is irrelevant. It may be sooner, as with the Beatles record contract with Parlophone, EMI. Or it could be sowing seeds for later generations to reap a fruitful crop, as with John and Yokos’ vision of world peace.

John’s fingers bled as he learnt his guitar and his heart bled as he and Yoko spoke up for peace….What God inspired dream is your heart yearning for today? ….And do you have the courage of John, Yoko and Habakkuk to let your feet follow your heart and express your soul’s deepest longings? 

As you read this article you may be calling me a dreamer, but as John Lennon articulately put it:

‘You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one’ 

I feel sure that the prophet Habakkuk would, along with the Celtic Saints, concur with John’s vision in these lyrics and bless it with an ‘Amen’

‘Amen’ actually means ‘So be it’ or ‘Let it be’ (Which John Lennon would no doubt approve of!)

Crying, Waiting, Hoping

Writer: Buddy Holly; lead vocal: George Harrison

Crying, waiting, hoping you'll come back
I just can't seem to get you off my mind
Crying, waiting, hoping you'll come back
You're the one I love, I think about you all the time
Crying, do do do do, tears keep a falling all night long
Waiting, do do do do, it seems so useless I know it's wrong
Keep a crying, waiting, hoping you'll come back
Maybe someday soon it'll change and you'll be mine
Crying, do do do do, tears keep a falling all night long
Waiting, do do do do, it seems so useless I know it's wrong
Keep a crying, waiting, hoping you'll come back
Maybe someday soon it'll change and you'll be mine
Crying, waiting, hoping

Sunset Spirituality

There are many different definitions of spirituality out there. From a practical perspective I like the definition by Georgeanne Lamont and Sally Burns:-

'Spirituality is not religion; it is not about beliefs, creeds or dogmas. It is about being fully alive, relationships and that which gives meaning and purpose to life.'



'Spirituality is falling in love with life'




 The following are a series of 'Twitters' which flowed from me in the space of 35 minutes, as I sat watching the sunset in this picture, taken on my phone camera in the Worcestershire Lickey Hills one Saturday evening at the end of September 2009.





They are my sunset spirituality moments. A heartfelt example of what spirituality means to me.

6:58pm
'I'm sitting at the top of The Lickey Hills,
watching the deep pink sunset gently caress the horizon.
Its heavenly goodnight kiss lingers in the air'

7:02pm
'I can scarce catch my breath.
I feel like a welcomed voyeur,
as nature unfurls its gifts at my
weary feet.
But, oh my, the climb has been
worth it :-D

7:05pm
'As if on the cue of an invisible conductor,
a half moon becomes visible.
A loving midwife,
calling the dusk to birth.'

7:08pm
'The sun has slid gently off the horizon,
leaving a colourwash of reds & oranges
in its wake.
Its rich palette is beyond any
artist's ken.'

7:13pm
'A mild chill layers the air,
brought to me on a gentle breeze.
I pull my jacket closer around me
to preserve my warmth.
I'm sat at nature's ringside seat.'

7:16pm
'My soul urges me to linger for
a while longer.
I hear it whisper to me:
"Stay, the best is yet to come."

7:23pm
'The soft hues of the departing
sunset are a marvel to behold.
A young couple walk by, hand in hand.
The dying embers of the sunset reflect
their eternal love.'

7:33pm
'Darkness closes in and sweeps
me off my feet.
I promise my Celtic heart
that I will return.
For to watch a sunset,
is to fall in love with life X'





I bless the gift of this sunset
For the gentle way it held me
and refused to let me go. 
For the loving way it gave me
a glimpse of nature's glory.
For the wise way it brought me
nearer to knowing who I am.
For the exquisite way it helped me
fall in love with life.
All over again

Crying, Waiting, Hoping Part 1

As I wandered round the beautiful harbour of Es Castell in Menorca, I was suddenly captivated by the sound of music wafting towards me on a gentle breeze, from a nearby bar. I recognised the distinctive sound, but I just couldn’t place the lyrics or quite put a name to the group.




The beautiful harbour of Es Castell, as dusk approaches


I stood and listened. Enjoying the melody of an unknown, but somehow familiar tune. Then the next song struck up and I smiled, the penny dropped at rapid speed. “Can’t Buy Me Love” by the Beatles was one I couldn’t fail to identify! Yet, even this sounded somewhat ‘different’.
Intrigued, I made my way to the bar and used my ‘O’ level (that’s GCSE in current currency) Spanish to stumbling effect. Somehow grasping my drift, the bar owner passed me the CD case: “The Beatles – Live at The BBC”. It was one I had never seen before; strange because I own all 13 albums and a number of compilations.

Most of the tracks were taken from radio recordings made at the BBC in the early 60s before they became the world’s premier group. I grabbed a ‘cerveza’ and sat down to listen. The tracks had a certain rawness to them, but contained an undeniable spiritual energy which connected with me. I was reminded of their days in Hamburg, Germany, playing clubs such as The Kaiserkeller. Long nights where they honed both their vocal and guitar talents.
These days were to stand them in good stead when they were catapulted to fame. Days where they were paid 300 marks (about £50) for a recording session as a backup band for Tony Sheridan, with no royalty rights—not a lot of money, even in the early 1960s!

Days and long nights which must have taken their toll – physically, mentally and spiritually. There must have been times when they indeed felt like crying, were tired of waiting for their big breakthrough….but kept on hoping.





John, Paul & George on stage in Hamburg








I bought the CD upon my return home and was delighted to hear the song “Crying, Waiting, Hoping” amongst the line up. This song was unusual in that it was George who took lead vocal, not John or Paul. It was also written by Buddy Holly, not Lennon & McCartney. To my amusement it was on their set in their audition for Decca records in January 1961. This audition now takes its place in record label folklore, as the Beatles were rejected by producer Mike Smith with the rationale:- “Guitar groups are on the way out”……More Crying, Waiting and Hoping for them, with dollops of anguish thrown in for good measure.

Yet, thankfully for me and millions of others throughout the world, the Beatles kept faith with their talents and broke through in 1963 to become known as “four lads who changed the world” .

How often in our lives are we left “Crying, Waiting, Hoping”, because things don’t turn out as we’d planned? Maybe we have some wonderful dream or vision, which seems to be dashed by circumstances apparently outside of our control.

The first verse of the song “Crying, Waiting, Hoping” is:-

'Crying, waiting, hoping you'll come back
I just can't seem to get you off my mind
Crying, waiting, hoping you'll come back
You're the one I love, I think about you all the time'

Maybe Buddy Holly wrote this as a love song to the woman he was missing from his life. But what if the ‘one I love’ is a cherished dream or vision, a dream which seems to be vanishing over the distant horizon?

The anguish expressed in the song about this cherished dream then, to me, becomes almost ‘blues-like’ in its heartfelt expression.

Bono from U2 explains how The Bible’s Psalms are like the blues for him :-

‘Explaining faith is impossible….Vision over visibility….Instinct over intellect…A songwriter plays a chord with the faith that he will hear the next one in his head. At age 12, I was a fan of David, who wrote many of the Psalms. He felt familiar, like a pop star could feel familiar.

A lot of the Psalms feel like the blues to me. Man shouting at God – “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me?” (Psalm 22)

Abandonment, displacement, is the stuff of my favourite Psalms. It’s in his despair that the psalmist really reveals the nature of his special relationship with God.

Honesty, even to the point of anger.
The Psalms did for me what solid, even rigorous, religious argument could never do, they introduced me to God, not belief in God, more an experiential sense of GOD.’

When I was in my teens the Beatles gave me an outlet for my teenage blues spirituality. They seemed to ‘know’ just how I was feeling at certain times in my life.
As a shy teenager the words to “To know her is to love her” expressed my angst about the girl I admired from afar…across a crowded classroom:-

'To know know know her is to love love love her.
Just to see her smile makes my life worthwhile.
Yes just to know know know her is to love love love her
and I do, and I do, and I do. And I do, and I do, and I do.

Why can't she see, how blind can she be?
Someday she'll see that she was meant just for me.'

Many years later, I have come to appreciate the heartfelt anguish expressed through The Psalms. As one of my friends says: ‘The Psalms are incredibly honest. They rock when life stinks.’ And incredibly over half of the 150 Psalms in the Bible are of the ‘My God, my God why have you forsaken me, blues variety’.

The Celtic Christian Saints of the 7th Century used to learn all 150 Psalms off by heart. The Psalms, together with the four Gospels of the Bible, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, were their staple spiritual diet. For Aidan who established the Celtic Church on the beautiful Holy Island in the North East of England, these were the essentials which he enthusiastically encouraged everyone to learn as a disciple of Jesus.

The Beatles as disciples in the music business had their disciplines in the late 50s and early 60s, as they practiced their guitar chords until their fingers bled and sang until their voices could take no more.

....To be continued

The Beatles Remastered

This week saw the release of The Beatles back catalogue, digitally remastered. On Amazon.co.uk the top ten selling CDs reverberate with The Beatles. Albums such as Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Abbey Road, Revolver, Help!, A Hard Day's Night, Rubber Soul. Such talent, energy, creativity and of course that famous Liverpool wit.



Some have said that the Beatles remastered a whole generation.
They led the music, cultural, fashion and often the political agenda.


Today I would like to highlight the role of John Lennon and Yoko Ono in raising the world consciousness towards "Imagining" a world with
all the people, living life in peace.

One of the lines in John's song
"Happy Christmas (War is Over)"
is "War is over, if you want it"

I find the lyrics empowering.



As this line ran through my mind I wrote the following piece.
It is based on a true story, where a group of local women felt empowered to act in a non violent manner, with a dramatic impact.

John Lennon in Darfur

Sandra kissed her baby William for the last time and with a grief stricken heart she handed him over to Army General Khartoum.

Over the next ten minutes this woeful scene was repeated some eleven times, as women from Mornei village handed their swaddled baby sons over to the waiting army personnel.

The women of Mornei were clearly distraught. Their sobbing filled the dry, dusty air and as if on cue the baby boys wailed a melancholic response.

It had been Sandra’s idea. Now she wasn’t so sure of its wisdom.

If the truth be known, she wasn’t really sure of anything anymore.

Life had been so straightforward back in Birmingham, if a little boring. Perhaps that’s why she had signed up for Voluntary Service Overseas.

It had all sounded so exciting at the time and who wouldn’t be up for helping transform an African village?

The flush of excitement of being sent to Mornei village in Darfur, coupled with her whirlwind romance and surprise pregnancy had completely turned her world upside down over these past twelve months.

Now as she stood reflecting on exactly what she had just done, tears started trickling down her face.

Her firstborn William signalled his own discontent as he lay yelping in the arms of General Khartoum.

What had she done?

And it wasn’t just William who had been handed over into military care. No, she’d persuaded eleven other village mothers to do the same.

Sandra’s sobs involuntarily got louder. Soon she was wailing, along with the other mothers, making a distraught dozen.

Last week had been the tipping point for Sandra. News had reached Mornei that another three of its young soldiers had been killed in conflict. That brought the total to 27 in just over 6 months and there was just no sign that the fighting would stop.

The mothers in the village were outraged. They had poured years of their lives into raising handsome young sons only for them to be used as war fodder in the latest tribal conflict. But the women felt helpless to do anything about the situation. And just what was the point of their flesh and blood sacrifices? The fighting had continued sporadically over the last five years with no resolution in sight. Pointless. It was all so pointless.

In a moment of genius or maybe pure madness, Sandra announced that she had come up with a plan. The village mothers listened raptly as Sandra made her speech:-

“Just what is the point of us raising our sons, only to lose them at 16? This can’t go on. We must protest in the strongest possible way. I propose that all of us with baby sons hand them over to General Khartoum and his troops next Wednesday, just before their parade. After all, if the General’s going to train them from the age of 16, in preparation for their imminent slaughter, he might as well have them now.

In my view there’s no point us rearing them any more, Let the Army do it.

They’ll never have the time or the skills to look after them. Look I know this might sound crazy to you, but we might just make them think about the lives they’re destroying."

To Sandra’s great surprise the plan was passed with great enthusiasm.

So, seven days later amidst the sobbing and the wailing, General Khartoum and his men found themselves holding a dozen baby boys.

The men looked mighty uncomfortable with their newly acquired bawling bundles and looked as one towards the General for advice.

A look of horror slowly dawned over the General’s face as he began to realise the practical implications of this great baby handover. He could tell that the women meant business. Only thing was, nothing in his army training manual had prepared him for this eventuality.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, the General barked for Sandra to come towards him.

“Ok, you’ve made your point” he said. “However, I must inform you that I have had plans in place to end this conflict for a while now. So take your babies back and I’ll start peace negotiations”

Sandra smiled as the General thankfully placed William back into her arms. “Thank you” she said.

The General sighed and with a look of resignation he withdrew back to his tent, with as much dignity as he could muster.

The mothers’ cries of lament were instantly transformed into tears of joy. And as Sandra watched them eagerly retrieve their sons, John Lennon’s lyrics danced joyfully through her mind and spilled out onto her lips:-

‘War is over if you want it’.

May you find a peaceful, non violent way of
transforming any situations of conflict in your life.
May you feel empowered to step out for peace
May your life be blessed with peace
May you truly know in your heart that
"War is over if you want it"


Take care
Tread peacefully

David

A Heart to Listen

Great conversations require great listening

Michael Mitton's book 'A Heart to Listen' is a great place to start. (ISBN 978-1841012698)



Mystic Henri Nouwen once said that 'Listening is the highest form of hospitality'

I feel this is true. As Mitton says:
' There is a real pain of not being listened to. We feel there is nobody who understands. People can't understand our 'language' and we are left feeling very much alone.'

He goes on to explain the value of being listened to, for him:
'I find it very difficult to find my own solution without the help of a listener. It is as if I have to journey to a deeper part of myself, and to embark on that journey I need company. In this way, the listening friend is not so much giving me a solution as giving me the companionship I need to venture in and discover the solution for myself.'

When a lover whispers those special, tender words "I love you" to their beloved, I often feel the missing words are "I love you....because you listen to me and you understand me"

The hymn 'Make me a channel of your peace' is based on a 13th Century prayer, attributed to St Francis of Assisi. A verse from this weaves together my desire to understand and be understood with all of one's heart and to love and be loved with all of one's soul:

'O Master, grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand
To be loved, as to love with all my soul.'

Our Western, particularly male, mindset can be one of dropping into 'fix-it' mode, as we listen.
Yet listening is not passive. As St Benedict would say 'to listen with the ear of your heart' is to provide a valuable soul space.

There are simply times when friendship calls simply for a human presence, a listening ear and an understanding heart, so that soul can unburden to soul.

I am finding this desire to simply listen with the 'ear of my heart' happening to me, more and more often. To simply 'be' there, as another shares from their heart. Something magical and mystical takes place. As listener, I feel I am holding a precious treasure. For the duration of the conversation there is nowhere else I need, or choose to be. As Buddhist Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh says: "It is a present moment, wonderful moment"

I always remember that for the person sharing with me, sharing their hopes, dreams and fears is never easy. It can take immense courage and trust to share and put into words things which are close to your heart. The risk of rejection is rife in the air. The listener can help provide a safe space. A place for another's soul to be heard and nurtured.

Mitton says:
'People often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking.'

Listening creates and nurtures relationships. Listening moves us closer. Closer to each other, closer to a peaceful existence, closer to the omnipresent divine spirit.

Don't be afraid to listen to another. Yet tread gently as they may be sharing their soul's deepest yearnings and most heartfelt dreams.
Let's quietly overhear the concerns of the next person you may listen to, speaking in a gentle whisper to you, the listener.

Drawing on the 20th century Irish poet,
W.B. Yeats, from his poem
'He wishes for Cloths of Heaven':

I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams





Tread softly
Take care

David


P.S. Michael Mitton's book can be found here:-
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Heart-Listen-Becoming-Listening-Person/dp/1841012696/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1234958725&sr=8-1

Great Conversations

John O'Donohue, Irish poet, writer and philosopher (1956-2008)

His mystic gifts were recognised in the Corporate World where he spoke on various topics of Leadership: The Awakening of Creativity; Without Vision, The Work-Place Works Against Itself; The Gift of Encouragement in Times of Anxiety.


I had the privilege of listening to him at Greenbelt 2007, where he spoke on 'Imagination as the Path of Spirit'.
He held the large audience spellbound, as the weaved his Celtic repertoire through our attentive senses. I loved what he shared about great conversations and friendships:-

"In our contemporary world it’s very hard to find places where you can show your heart.

One of the things in our culture that’s very difficult is to find someone you can talk to. People want a best friend or someone they can talk to.

When was the last time that you had a great conversation with someone? A conversation that sang in your mind for days and weeks afterwards. In real conversation you can be taken to places you never expected. You can overhear things from yourself that you never knew you had in you. And you can absolutely change in a great conversation.

It’s like pure nourishment for yourself. This is one of the beautiful gifts of friendship. And if you have a friend with whom you can have a great conversation with, then you should do that often.

And regardless of where they are you should go to see them, so you can talk to them and be with them. Because I think in that you find new dimensions of your self, that in normal day to day life no one even suspects.

In friendship and in really good conversation you get a chance to make a clearance, in order to allow the other person to emerge as who they are in their otherness. In a safe space, where they won’t be assaulted with either expectations or judgement.

And that’s one of the things friendship should be.

Friendship and love should be safe spaces of clearance and healing and possibility."

Yes, a great conversation with a friend is indeed pure nourishment for the soul.

May you be blessed with a friend
with whom you can have great heartfelt conversations.
May you be able to speak with them often
and know that the time spent with them is like no other

Take care
David

P.S. For those interested in hearing John O'Donohue's talk, it can be bought here:-
http://www.greenbelt.org.uk/shop/talks/speakers/400

Alternatively check out his website:-
http://www.johnodonohue.com/

The Snowdrop

The Snowdrop

by David Wetton

It was the old man who spotted it first. “Look over there” he eagerly cried,
his whole craggy face lighting up with a synchronous flick of the Creator’s switch.

The children gleefully turned and ran towards the place where the old man’s frail finger
was pointing. Almost as soon as they had hit full pelt, they screeched to a halt and
caught their breath as one. The ethereal beauty of the old man’s discovery held them spellbound.

The apple of the old man’s eye stood out proudly as a sign of new hope for creation’s breaking dawn. The wizened old man caught up with the children, pausing only to place his hands on his knees, as he too caught his breath.

“A snowdrop” he declared, with childlike glee to his captive audience. “New life bursting out of the earth, a sign of the approaching Spring.” As he spoke the children’s eyes grew larger and wider, as if trying to drink in the full magnificence of the miracle unfolding in front of them. “A snowdrop is a sign of hope” said the old man with a flourish and he closed his eyes with reverence, so as to emphasise his point.

The old man looked forward with a passion to spotting the first snowdrop of the new year. Yet it wasn’t an accident that he was the first one to spot it. For through his many years of experience he had trained himself to be aware of and spot signs of hope. There are certain enlightened people who ‘know’ how to see signs of hope, even in the midst of life’s hardships. The snowdrop awakened within him a quickening ray of hope, which illuminated his vulnerable persona.

The first majestic snowdrop in the midst of winter, the glimpse of a catkin gracing a willow or the glimmering light of nature’s dawn, all brought a response of sheer delight to the old man’s heart.

There is a certain loveable truth in observing that people who can see hope in a big worldly way, also see it in nature’s smallest things too. Actually, as the old man was fond of saying to the children: “There is a need to see hope in the smallest of things, otherwise one can easily become wrapped up in one’s own difficulties.”

The old man steadies himself. A warming, an awakening in his heart tells him of the hope the snowdrop has brought to him. A hope which now reflects resplendently upon the children’s eager faces stood before him.

The children lean in slightly to catch the old man’s words. Anxious not to let the breeze whisk them out of earshot.

“My dear children, let us remember and keep close to our hearts, the hope of this snowdrop, which God’s creation has graciously set before us today. We are indeed privileged to witness the presence of this tiny snowdrop in our midst. It is a glorious beacon of hope which points the way towards a better world. One bursting at the seams with love, peace and joy.”

He pauses for a moment, a wistful look upon his face, a look of a man anxiously attempting to recollect a truth, an ancient truth which has sustained him throughout his life. Just as it appears as though this treasure has fallen out of his grasp, the old man smiles. He reaches out and tenderly grasps the hands of the two smallest children. A third spontaneously clambers gently upon his knee. The other children move in closer, sensing the eternal wonder of this moment.

“My dear children, our most beautiful gift is free will and the ability to learn, teach and grow. Once we find our purpose for this existence we fly with the beauty & freedom of a butterfly and grace the world with the hope of this snowdrop”

As the old man closes, the children remain silent. All that can be heard is the gentle sobbing of a woman sat nearby on a park bench. Five minutes ago she felt that her life was too painful to endure any longer. The old man’s words and the children’s innocent joy have resuscitated her heart and given her renewed hope and courage for her future.

As her tears flow shamelessly, she looks towards the snowdrop and smiles a hope-filled smile.