Saturday, July 16, 2011

MISSING

It's so hard sometimes, when you miss the company of someone special.

It's such a mad world that keeps people apart; but we can always hope for better times, and say a quiet prayer.

"If you love someone more than anything, then distance only matters to the mind, not to the heart."

Friday, July 15, 2011

WHAT TO DO WHEN A FRIEND GOES QUIET

The other day, a friend told me she had been 'dropped' by a best friend. She didn't know what she had done, but her mate had simply stopped communicating. She had gone over their recent relationship, trying to think of ways she could have offended her friend unintentionally. But nothing made much sense.

"I have no idea what's happened," she said.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"I'll wait for a while," she said. She didn't want to be confrontational. Of course she would have loved to know what she'd done, so she could make peace if necessary.

Relationships are funny things. We can be travelling along fine, and then a friend, a customer, or a family member can seem to be avoiding us. It becomes like a detective game to work out what, if anything, we might have done wrong. Whether we ever find out can depend on the approach that other person has to communication. I'd suggest there are four types:

1. THE COMFORT SEEKER (low-risk, low-energy) - This type of friend will do whatever's easiest. If they have something they can't tell you, they will just avoid you until the problem has blown over. They don't like risk, so they won't pick up the phone and risk the chaos that might result. They don't have the energy to work through the issues, so they'd rather leave them.
What to do: Wait. You will hear from this person when it suits them. In the meantime, you're on your own. They don't mean any harm. They just want an easy life.

2. THE PACIFIER (low-risk, high energy) - This type of person applies a lot of energy to making peace in their world. Like the comfort-seeker, they don't like risk, but they do apply a lot of energy to making things right with others. They will generally keep on and on adapting, and rarely avoid people, preferring to make the effort to stay in touch. It is very rare for these people to avoid others, but if they do, it is because they feel they have tried everything, and there is nothing more they can do.
What to do: Get in touch, sit with them in a safe environment, and ask them for thoughts, ideas, suggestions. If you show yourself willing to make peace, so will they.

3. THE NEUROTIC (high-risk, low-energy) - This type will be impossible to read; their behaviour will seem inconsistent, blowing hot and cold. When they are in the mood to be friendly, you will receive their friendship; when they are in the mood to withdraw, you will hear nothing.
What to do: Accept that this person's behaviour will depend on their mood. When they're in a good mood, enjoy it. When they're in a bad mood, get occupied on something else. Don't require rational explanations: they won't have one.

4. THE NOMAD (high-risk, high-energy) - This person will enjoy things for what they are, but if something more interesting comes along, they're off enjoying that instead. They generally don't mean any harm - they have just acquired the habit of choosing new adventures, and 'going for it'.
What to do: Accept that you cannot chain this person to the ground, and that it's not personal. Wait, and keep yourself occupied on other things. You will hear when they have a window in their diary!

I hope this helps to interpret the sometimes confusing behaviour of our fellow human beings! The main thing is not to take things personally - it will just eat you up while you try to guess what you have done wrong. In the famous words of St Paul, 'Love keeps no record of wrongs'. If you love others truly, then you will allow them to be themselves, adapt where possible, and, most importantly… when they come back from hiding, retiring, sulking or adventure-seeking, smile, love them, and enjoy them for the imperfect but beautiful human being they are!

Sunday, July 10, 2011

RUNNING FOR A TRAIN

I was driving to collect my son the other night, and went past two figures running fast on the pavement. At first I thought they were runners; but then I saw that they were dressed for a night out. After a few moments' thought, I decided to stop and ask if they needed help.

"We're trying to catch the last train!" they said, out of breath.

I offered them a lift and they hopped in. A little later they spotted their friends on the pavement.

"These are our friends - you can let us out here!"

But as I did so, I heard the friends say, "Why did you get out of the car? You could have got there!"

As I drove off, I remembered that they had said they were trying to catch the 11:52pm. It was 11:49pm.

I thought about it. About whether there should be limits to my help, or whether I should keep helping until the job was done.

I stopped again around the corner. When they were level with me, exhausted, I opened my window.

"Listen, do run if you want, but if it's easier, just all get in and I can try to get you to the train."

They piled in (I think there were five of them), and we rushed to the station, getting there with two minutes to spare.

As they got out, they held out a can and asked if I wanted a beer. "I don't drink, but just do something nice for someone tomorrow!" I said.

"I love you!" shouted one of them as I drove away. I heard someone call me a guardian angel.

I can honestly say I gained several things that night, in just a few minutes. The adrenaline rush of a quest. The pleasure of being part of something. The happiness of something achieved. A sense of friendship. The feeling of generating goodwill and faith in human nature.

So if you see someone 'running for a train' - whatever form that train takes, and if you have time (we always do really), see what you can do to help them. You will gain from it somehow, I guarantee!

Monday, July 4, 2011

INTUITION AND INFORMATION

I was in London the other day, at the New Designer's exhibition in Islington. It was held at the Business Design Centre, which has a wonderful arching roof like a Victorian railway station. There were hundreds of exhibitors, all designers exploring the boundaries of what is possible, using processes whose limits are not fully understood.

My good friend's exhibit included a beautiful red bowl, made from material squeezed out from a special machine called an extruder. If you can imagine a giant toothpaste tube being squeezed, and the contents being teased into a large bowl-shape before the material dries, then you have the idea. No one has done this before, so the product has the great attraction of the new, combined with tremendous aesthetic appeal.

She told me about other ideas that have been explored. They had traced the journey from Manchester to Milan on a map, and then programmed the shape into a computerised 3-dimensional printing machine, which can build up a 3-D structure in layers. What they discovered was that information (here in the form of map information) has a definite aesthetic feeling about it when transformed into another medium. The road from Manchester to Milan will have its own special shape, as will all journeys.

As I listened, many psychological parallels struck me. Our intuitive response to experiences, for example, rely on receiving a great mass of sense information, and then somehow processing it into a whole result which gives us a gut feeling in our stomach. For example, music can be written as a complex web of information; but the resulting song can have a recognizable identity all of its own. So that when we play a song, we are immediately taken to an emotional place which we recognize.

I would go further, and say that emotion acts as a mediator between the raw information and the intuitive response. This allows us, through feelings, to deal with masses of information all at once. So, for example, we can tell if a situation feels right, just by being there for a few seconds. We do not know what information we are processing, but we are aware of the emotional result. Music, fashion, and most art work on this level - without an emotional response, we might as well not bother with art. Everything has a mood, and that mood is what we use to organize our response. Without it, we have no sense of preference or priority.

But the response, to be effectively organized, has to be within normative limits. When our sensitivity is too high, for instance, we react to everything with extremes of fear, apprehension or suspicion. This is the world of phobia and paranoia, where our past experience has conditioned us to be so alert that we lose all proportion. In emotional situations of this kind, our friends often suggest to us that we get some distance, to regain a sense of proportion, of balance.

As we sat outside on the pavement, watching the Islington crowds go by, it was a chance to recharge the spiritual batteries, and to recalibrate the emotional sensors. When life becomes very dramatic, it is easy to forget proportion, easy to react with fear and distrust of the world. But by exploring together, by trying out new techniques, by trial and error, and by comparing notes with our friends, we can rediscover a sense of proportion and beauty. Instead of being reactive and afraid, our intuition returns to harmony with the information around us. And we can then drop our excess fear, rediscover our inner peace, and find comfort again in those closest to us.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

DISAPPOINTMENT AND HOPE

Yesterday, in the sunny evening of a beautiful day, as the shadows were lengthening, I was walking through a garden with little Poppy.
It was the end of a long day at a theme park, and my friend's daughter was disappointed. She had trekked across the park to have a last go on her favourite ride, only to find that it was closed for the day.

"That's it," she said. "There's no point in anything any more."

All suggestions were met with the same response. No food would taste right; no activity would match up to the swing ride she had wanted to go on; there was no hope in the world!

I noticed in her a little version of what comes to us all when we are disappointed. We let the disappointment move outwards, until, quick as a flash, it has affected all aspects of our life. Nothing feels right, so nothing can be right. The happy past does not exist. The future is bleak. Poppy wouldn't even be comforted by a plan to make that ride the first one on the next visit.

"It's a year until then," she said.

"You know, the thing I like about your attitude," I said, "is that you haven't given up yet." (I guess she had given up a little, but I wanted her to see the hope that remained and believe in that!)

We all looked aroung the gift shop. As closing time arrived, with a minute to go, she hadn't found anything to cheer her up. Finally, with seconds left, her mum, held a furry polar bear up in the air in front of her.

Poppy looked at it.
You could see that she was feeling the pull of pessimism; hearing a little voice that said happiness had ended, so why should she try to find it.
But then a little smile came to the corners of her mouth.
Suddenly her posture changed, she took a deep breath, and nodded.

"That's the one!" she said, shining with a new humour and confidence.

After all the disappointment, she had caught the important lesson that there is always something happy around the corner, if we just smile and reach out a bit.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

HOSPICES AND HOSPITALS

Very sadly, a family friend died the other day after a long illness. There was so much gratitude, though, for the care and support of St Joseph's Hospice in Hackney - for giving care with kindness, effort and dignity. I remember, when my sister died, the dedication and flexibility of the Macmillan nurses. Where the hospital nurses had forgotten things, and been so rushed they could hardly cope, the Macmillan nurses took time to make sure that all the family were treated with great respect.

Maybe we could all ask ourselves whether we are like a hospital or a hospice. Perhaps, like some hospitals, we are busy, at the limit, worried, defensive and urgent, fighting battles, pushing people around.

But perhaps we could take the time to be more like a hospice, trying to take care of each other with dignity and respect, listening to each other's needs, and making sure we respect each other's right to a life free from fear and pain, and full of dignity. It's only a short life really. And what does it cost to be kind? A little time, a little less urgency, and a generosity of spirit. Those extra things make life worth it, feed the soul, and give hope.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

TRUTH AND COMFORT

In recent weeks, I've seen some situations where I've struggled to understand what is happening. It's seemed as if the world has turned upside down and lost its senses. But I've found one quote from C.S. Lewis a big help:

"If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair."

It's so true. It seems that, sometimes, when we reach for comfort, the world isn't ready to give it. But if we keep strong in the knowledge of who we are, and keep our intentions happy, and hold to what is true and good, then comfort may come in the end. Sending a big hug to anyone under pressure, or feeling unhappy, confused or alone. Keep being yourself, try to live as openly and truthfully as you can, and keep helping others, even when it seems hopeless. Even in confusing times, there is still good in the world!