Happy New Year!

The sun is shining here in Petworth & 2012 is upon us. After the battering winds of the last few days it's a blessed relief to see a cloudless sky. 


It always strikes me that New Year should start in April or May - a bit of warmth, a burst of buds - that would feel like a renewal. Instead I am inclined to hibernate. But perhaps that is the way it should be. Time to recover from the excesses of Christmas, time to consider where we have been and where we want to go. Or perhaps the chance to just be.


I'm not one for New Year's resolutions. I much prefer to spread my plans across the coming year, to ease in gently and take my time. December is spent in contemplation of the year just gone. Being an antsy, overactive creature, my years are always crammed with action. My goal of just "being" always seems to be just beyond my reach - too many things to do, people to see.


I am never at a loss for achievements to catalogue, positives and negatives to weigh up. But the real successes for me come not from action but from internal growth. 


It is Sunday and I have been sitting in our 'turret' (that's Chris's name for our bay window that overlooks the town square, from where we can watch the world go by). It is on the second floor and affords a bird's eye view. Nothing like getting off the ground for giving a wider perspective on life.


I like my morning routine to be thus: lights on, fire on, cup of tea, sit in turret in quiet contemplation. I try to get up as early as possible, knowing that once the world gets going my precious solitude will be surrendered to the needs of those around me. And that's okay. That's the way I like it.


I am a social creature. We are all social creatures, whether we accept it or not. We are here on earth to relate to one another. It is a universal truth that we are all connected. The theologists know it, the quantum physicists know it. It is only we individuals who try to deny it.


Old Einstein was spot on with his theory of relativity. It is through our relationship with others that we grow. I know, we all know, what it is to learn this the hard way. Difficult situations, uncomfortable conversations - that's where the lessons lie. Which is why I am so protective of my quiet time.


If I am to give to those around me then I need to remind myself of what those gifts should be. As Mother Theresa so perfectly put it: "There are no great deeds - just small deeds done with great love." 


Love, forgiveness (of ourselves as well as others), understanding, acceptance, kindness - all tools with which we can enrich our lives and find peace. Lovely. Yeah, and easier said than done. 


I'd say my own search for peace began consciously some 15 years ago. There's nothing like being on your knees to make you focus on what's really important. My desire to feel at peace was sparked by the knowledge that my choices so far had caused immeasurable pain to myself and those around me. You see what I mean? It's all relative.


15 years ago. Blimey. I would like to say that this epiphany led to a dramatic change in my behaviour and that I have spent the last decade and a half atoning for my mistakes. Hah! The very idea. Too funny. No. I continued on my wayward path, stumbling from one catastrophe to another. If my life were a Soap Opera you'd be shouting at the television in frustration at my misguided attempts to improve my life and relationships.


But that's the point, isn't it? We grow not by knowing what is right in the first place, but by learning from our mistakes. Remember The Prophet? It is only when we have gouged out deep wells of suffering that we have the capacity to fill them with joy. Yeah, well, most of us have some experience of that.


Now I'm going to give in to my addiction to saving others and tell you about a beautiful book: A Return To Love by Marianne Williamson. I'm not suggesting you read it (see - I'm trying to learn) but I can't resist sharing some of it's contents with you. The subtitle is Reflections On The Principles Of A Course In Miracles. Oops, I just can't help myself!


A Course In Miracles I think I have mentioned before. A weighty tome with pages like tissue paper and writing too small for me to read now without my glasses, it lives next to my toilet and, in turn, inspires and torments me. 


A Return To Love, on the other hand, is like a soothing balm - accessible, easily understood - a bridge between the metaphysical and the material world. The message? Love is the only reality. Anything else is simply the ego's way of enforcing our idea of separation. In practising our surrender to love & by accepting our true identity as spiritual beings rather than corporeal individuals, we can truly shine - as one.


Heavy.


No. A blessed relief.


A Course In Miracles has my Ego panicking about the need to surrender my material self in order to attain peace (ooh, noo, can't do that! Can't give up parties & new shoes & cosy conversations with friends!)  


A Return To Love reminds me that our purpose is not to relinquish this material world, but to embrace it as the spiritual beings that we are. To live with love, to act with forgiveness, to  accept forgiveness ourselves, and to be of service in whatever way we can - knowing that every little helps.


Haven't we all dreamt of grand schemes & brilliant ways that we can contribute to this earthly life? (Or is that just me?!) Many of us know the saying "A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step". But it's true. A smile, a willingness to listen, a loving thought, all tiny contributions to a greater goal.


It's 7.20am now and I have just turned my radio on - then off again. As I listened momentarily to the news reader pronounce upon the alleged cruelty of Allied troops in Iraq, I imagined a world where fear, anger, hatred were replaced with the only thing that is real -


Love.


My own motives began as selfish. In seeking peace for myself I have come to understand that Love cannot be selfish. In giving love I am finding peace. The bumper sticker that proclaims "Smile and the world smiles with you" is a cliche because it is true.


Try it. It works.


Amen.


P.S: Having awoken at 5.15am to practice my emanations of love, by midday I was tired and getting a bit crabbit. My good intentions were being thwarted by my frequent descent into pettiness. Oh well, back to the drawing board. And since this seems to be a blog of sayings, here's another one - God loves a trier!