Monday 26 January 2015

On Success.



First you must suffer greatly for a long time, and then when struggle seems endless, you’ll succeed. So believed Hans Christian Andersen, who loved theatre. Andersen wrote many plays, today all but forgotten: then, often unperformed. Comedies, tragedies, romances: his history as a playwright was disappointing. For him, success came through the small. Perhaps someone failing so often was able to understand the magical transformations of the fairytale, for Andersen’s fairytales became immortal.
            Lao Tzu thought that action led to loss. Much preferable to let things take their natural course, without violence or force. This was his counsel:

I have three Treasures;
Guard them and keep them safe:
the first is Love.
The second is, Never too much.
The third is, Never be the first in the world
Through not presuming to be the first in the world,
One can develop one’s talent and let it mature.[1]

            The Jesuits pray to be given grace to do something small for God every day; many surely succeed. Success implies that things go well because intentions are fulfilled. Therefore intentions are of utmost importance. Clear sight, says Lao Tzu, sees what is small. Success through the small: think on it.




Monday 19 January 2015

On Hope



The library received a batch of books on optimism, learned unhelplessness, positive well-being and personal strengths last week. It struck me how this is related to the theological virtue of hope.
            Virtue is often imagined as boring. Would you attend a lecture on virtue? Yet we practice virtues every day, often without knowing it. I met a man at the pool who had some writing tattooed on the underside of his arm. ‘What does it say?’ I asked. ‘It’s the names of my folks, who’ve passed on,’ he said. ‘Not that I need it to remind me, but it’s good to have them there.’ This is the virtue of filial piety, not boring at all, fascinating rather. I doubt he’d have thought of himself as a virtuous man.
            The theological virtues —faith, hope, charity — are, technically, available to Christians through grace. But when I consider them in the light of the cardinal virtues — justice, prudence, temperance, fortitude — I think hope can be practiced by anyone. Hope is the desire for salvation, the belief that it is possible, coupled with the ability not to give up. Those who don’t give up are practicing hope, a virtue that is open to practice.

Monday 12 January 2015

On wasting time



Arrived at medical rooms to find seats filled with previous callers. Entertainment via large-screen cricket. Persons huddled over outdated magazines; advertising noises; receptionist gossiping with pal; worrying cough from fellow traveller. This will take the better part of an hour.
            Everyone thrilled to see everyone else.
            What is wasting time? Cricket gives focus, prevents conversation, even if eyes weren’t glued to mobile phones. What other use would I have for this time?
            Can you pray in a waiting room? (I mean real waiting, not emergency anxiety.) Well, you can observe. Light plays over the blue paint. Rain out the window, glowing on plants. All these bent heads, looking away from each other, down at the phone, down at the news. Red-gold hair of young person in green jumper. Circular shape of large lady with folded hands. Space. Shoes. Sounds.
            Can you ask a question? ‘Who am I?’ Here, instead of there. Would I like to spend my last day doing this? Is not time to be used?
            Everyone here a soul for whom Christ died, as saints remind us. Bound for judgement, or resurrection. Good company here. What is wasting time? Is not time to be used?

Tuesday 6 January 2015

On Lifting the Wrist: Prayer



Every once in a while something clicks in while I’m trying to learn. With the piano, I’ve lately discovered an elementary concept: I have to lift my hand off the keyboard at certain moments or get entangled in my own fingers. I’ll have to practice this, as I’ve been hugging the keyboard tight.
            In all arts, there comes a time when you have to stop clinging. Clinging, clutching, gripping, hanging on for dear life. In drawing, you'll  find the draft doesn’t have to resemble the finished image in any fine respect. In music, less clinging and more singing. You can only get there from here.
            Is the same possibly true of prayer? Can I praise and bless with a light touch? God hears so many petitions. Do petitions grip and clutch? Of course, from time to time things reach a dire stage where there’s nothing to do but appeal to God.
            Praise and blessing are maybe like breathing. Breathe in: praise. Breathe out: bless. Always bless an attacker. Ask the martial artists. Is the pause between one breath and another like lifting the wrist, taking your hand off it for a second, letting it go?