Sometimes I’m a pain. . .

Posted on February 24, 2014 by Heathermargaret

Sometimes I can be a bit of a pain! I get anxious when situations are not as I think they should be. . . yep, I confess, I do like the ducks lined up. Ring any bells? Well, I spend quite a bit of time telling myself that it’s okay for other people do things differently, the sky won’t fall in if some matters aren’t attended to right away, everyone sees the world from a different angle. . .  So, in other words, I have to manage my expectations of others and what I think they should or should not do. Now you might be thinking, that’s fair enough, we can’t control other people and yep, I agree. But. . . what happens when we rely on someone else to do something in order for us to do our job, or to finish a task? When we work with others, professionally or in a volunteer capacity or even just a group of friends who do things together, we immediately have expectations about how they will act and behave. When others fail (in my view) to hold up their end of the bargain or to carry out agreed expectations, that’s when the judging, frustration and anger can slip right in.

Expectations vary from person to person. In some situations, such as work or organised groups the expectations are often written or articulated. Of course, we all know that interpretation of written or spoken communication can vary considerably between individuals. And despite the best efforts to have everyone ‘on the same page’ there is usually a bit of a gap between how we all take in information about similar tasks, functions or ideas. Now, this is where I get really worked up! I often can’t believe that when arrangements are made, details agreed upon and confirming emails sent, that some people actually can’t comprehend, or still get the whole thing bum up!

And, whilst I’m having a grizzle, what about the late comers? The people who always arrive late to gatherings and meetings.  They saunter happily in (or so it seems) and never notice the irritation or frustration on the faces of others waiting. Some people are such habitual late comers that others expect them to be late and actually accept this about them. . .off the hook for responsibility. . .

Yes, I can feel my blood pressure rising as I write this stuff. Which leads me to the real reason for writing. Self management. For years I have assisted (professionally) people to cope and deal with many issues in their life, both family, individual and work based difficulties. One of the most important notions, I believe, is to be able to manage our own emotions and responses to certain situations.  Sometimes this can be easier said than done. I’m a big believer in this because I have to practice it myself.

I like to think of myself as an organised person. I certainly try very hard to follow through when I promise or commit to a task. I know this about myself because I get anxious and worried if I see some impediment to this happening. Guilt is a very good friend/foe for me. In its dysfunctional way my guilt ensures that matters get attended to promptly. I’m not suggesting that anyone should develop dysfunctional guilt but a healthy bit of self-reflection around responsibility isn’t a bad thing to do from time to time.

Many people are super organised because they have to control everything (and sometimes everyone) around them in order to keep their own levels of anxiety to manageable levels. But this way of functioning in the world has its problems. It can drive other people nuts, and it can be self-defeating as well. Having to have all things organised at all times is exhausting both physically and emotionally. This is a good time to practice a bit of self management.

When we self manage we have to turn the focus inward, toward ourselves rather than external, toward the situation or the other person/people. Better to look at own behaviour. For example, self questioning can help. Why am I so worked up about his? How much does it matter if it isn’t as I think it should be? Why am I taking responsibility and getting frustrated when others are obviously not? Just stopping to consider my own response is usually enough for me to feel less responsible and less anxious. Good theory, I can hear you anxiously think but what about the issue at hand? Well, strangely enough the matter will be dealt with (or not) and life will go on. . .the roof won’t fall in and hopefully my blood pressure level will be the beneficiary.

The other thing that I dislike is the way I feel about myself when I become judgemental and critical of others. This happens when I place my expectations (sometimes unreasonable) on others. When I let my need to be organised (or to organise others) dominate, rather than manage my own reactions and expectations, I end up feeling isolated and overwhelmed. However, when I’m able to relax and allow the process or people around me to proceed (flaws and all) without always placing my expectations up front,  I rather like the comfortable emotional space that I find myself in. And as for the ducks. . .

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Music, Music, Music. . .

Posted on February 9, 2014 by Heathermargaret

Yesterday, despite the heat I reluctantly managed to get myself to the gymnasium for a bit of exercise. Whenever I go there I’m entertained by the non-stop music that provides rhythm and necessary mood. The music varies according to the duty instructor’s taste. Now that can be a problem at times.  Younger employees set the music according to their fancy. But today the music was my vintage. I noticed the women quickly change rhythm when the Abba song ‘Money, Money, Money’ pounded out across the floor. No need to say a word just move to the beat, if you’re over fifty-five, that is. I glimpsed the younger clients who looked a bit amused, ignored them! Now, I’m no Abba fan but who doesn’t recognise popular music from an era gone by. ‘Mama Mia’, ‘Fernando’, ‘Ring Ring’, ‘Super Trouper’, ‘Take A Chance On Me’,  all from the wonder group, Agnetha, Anni-Frid, Bjorn and Benny in the 1970’s. No matter where you were or what you were doing, there was no escaping the catchy music from the blond Swedish foursome.

As I raised a sweat to good old Abba, it got me thinking about the role of music in our lives. A good party in Australia (a few decades ago and still today) wasn’t complete without a few rounds of Jimmy Barnes singing ‘Working Class Man’. This classic was released about 1985 and still entices people to their feet in seconds. Actually, if the right gym attendant is on duty we even get to work out to the gravely voice of the wonderful Jimmy Barnes. Oh, I forgot, there is only one way to listen to Jimmy singing this song. Full volume.

So whilst I’m in the reminiscing mood let’s go back a bit further. In the 1960’s I remember when Normie Rowe (how could anyone forget Normie!), he was my teenage idol. Sorry Normie, I think you now prefer Norman. Well anyway, I lived in a country town, we didn’t get much entertainment and only knew about these singers and entertainers through watching weekly television shows called Go and Bandstand.  When it was announced that Normie Rowe and a few other acts (can’t remember who they were) were  coming to perform in our very own town hall it caused major excitement and frenzy.  I made a navy and white spotted dress complete with a matching peaked cap (they were all the craze then, please believe me!) and prepared for the big event. I loved Normie singing ‘Ooh La La’, ‘Que Ser’a, Ser’a’, ‘It Ain’t Necessarily So’, ‘The Stones That I Throw’ and ‘I (Who Have Nothing)’, these are the songs I  mainly remember these and they instantly carry me back to the sixties and the pop era of the time.

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Normie Rowe in the 1960’s

The Beatles’ of course were cult figures for so many teenagers around the world. I remember in a cooking class at school, I must have been about fourteen or fifteen at the time, another student had a poster of the beatles rolled up in her bag underneath the cooking bench. She was unrolling it when the teacher spotted the backsides of six or seven girls huddling excitedly over the picture. Well, I have to confess that I was one of the huddlers trying to get a glimpse of George, my favourite Beatle. I will never forget their music and knew all the words to ‘She Loves You’, ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’ and ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’. I also remember the severe lecture dished out to the ‘silly girls’ at the back cooking bench.

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The Beatles in the 1960’s

And before I get on to more sensible examples of music and how it touches or influences our lives I have to mention the wonderful English singer called ‘Cilla Black’. Not to say she isn’t sensible mind you.  Oh, how I swooned over her on the television, mainly trying to work out how she was able to get her slinky hair to curl long and sharp down the sides of her face. . .anyway I did love her singing.  Remember, ‘Anyone Who Has A Heart’.

There are memorable times that I particularly associate with music. When visiting the Shetland Isles a few years ago we spent a wonderful evening at a pub listening to ‘Scottish Fiddling and Singing’. It is said that Shetland Fiddling has an Irish and Norwegian influence, lively and full of energy. Old and young musicians alike tuned up, joined in and cross referenced their music to the sound of a clapping and foot thumping audience. I’ll never forget the marvel of the music at that pub in the Shetland Isles.

Whilst I’m on about Scottish music I have to mention a piece of music that is very special to me.  Whenever I hear ‘Scotland The Brave’ it raises the hairs on the back of neck and my feet move involuntarily. I can’t whistle very well but when I hear that tune, I’m the best whistler in the World! I think somehow it represents part of my heritage, the pipes and the drums and a sound I’ve listened to since childhood.

A modern tune composed in 2003 also has particular but more recent meaning for me. ‘You Raise Me Up’ originally written by ‘Secret Garden and later also released by Josh Groban in 2004 is a version that is particularly special to me. Special because a wonderful work colleague played it at my work farewell and gave me the CD. A few years ago we also played it at my Mother’s funeral to accompany a slide show of her life. Whenever I hear this tune begin it gives me a little jab of sadness and probably always will.

Isn’t it amazing what going to the gym on a hot day can trigger. . .

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Acceptance. . . an arduous journey. . .

Posted on February 7, 2014 by Heathermargaret

We’ve all heard loose talk about acceptance. It’s as if we just have to make an intellectual decision to accept a situation and then ‘bingo’ it happens.  Not always.  Of course, it also depends on the nature and seriousness of the matter we are dealing with as to how we respond. There is no doubt that some situations in life can benefit from acknowledging and accepting outcomes or events in order to heal, recover and make changes. But some events are so profound and shattering that acceptance seems impossible.

For instance, if we lose a child, relative or close friend to illness, accident or suicide, how do we cope, let alone move to a position of acceptance? Because, anyone who has experienced a severe and devastating loss in their lives, will tell you that it’s something they do not want to accept and in fact it can feel like an affront if suggested. Instead it’s as if when in deep grief, the lost person or child is still in the foremost of their thinking and loving, and that’s how they want it. Many people who have lost a child or someone very close will say they don’t want to forget and they don’t want to re-cover and move on as some well-meaning people often suggest.

Nothing can be the same after tragic loss, people’s lives are changed forever. I suspect it’s the change of life circumstances that have to be managed and possibly accepted, not the loss. I recently heard a person say that she lives around her loss and that the tragic event is very much part of her life journey.  Words or notions like recovery, acceptance and moving-on can sound hollow. Maybe it’s because those words are somehow linked with the connotation of returning things to normal. We know that returning to the ‘same’ life circumstances after major personal loss is unlikely.

Of course, there are other categories of loss and difficulty that require major adjustment and realignment. I have a good friend with an illness that progressed to a stage where she was unable to remain in her own home. A keen gardener and someone who valued her independence, she had no choice but to make immense changes in her life in order to receive the care and support needed to manage the physical symptoms of her condition. She was not just dealing with the trauma of ill-health but the lifestyle she knew was suddenly substantially changed. She is very brave and adaptive.

It’s hard to accept that our lives are different from what we imagine. We all have expectations or notions about what we want, expect or assume. It’s often painful to reconcile these expectations when issues such as infertility, illness, financial difficulties, relationship break down, living apart from family, disability and a myriad of other circumstances impact and stop us progressing and living the way we envisaged.

When change or unwanted circumstances encroach on our lives, disappointment, confusion, avoidance, denial, sadness, resentment, stress and worry can occur in response. Some individuals talk of a gradual creeping depression that descends over time when it becomes evident that their life isn’t panning out the way they imagined or wanted. This can leed to reflection and reassessment of life events. Sometimes for some of us, there’s value in reflection and taking a look at the past  in order to negotiate the future.

Acceptance is a funny notion, it’s born out of loss.  Real, imagined or disenfranchised. Acceptance is thrust upon us, its’ something we don’t choose to undertake. Acceptance is a process, not merely a decision. It’s a very difficult emotional place to arrive at because usually there’s pain and angst along the way. For some of us it’s giving up longed for dreams or wants. Perhaps, we have to see ourselves as different from the visualised concept of self and who we are. We arrive at the acceptance gate perhaps battered and bruised, even sometimes feeling a little hard done by. However, one thing is for sure, acceptance takes its time and toll, it’s an arduous journey, long and hard for many of us.

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A little friend goes to school. . .

Posted on January 28, 2014 by Heathermargaret

A little friend who lives in our street is about to embark on a very big adventure. She starts school for the very first time this week.  Yesterday, she arrived at our house, all decked out in her new school uniform.

With a contagious smile, she modelled the blue and white checked dress with its crispy white collar and cuffs. Shiny black shoes, you know the ones, with two layers of velcro across the front, gleamed highly, as much today as they ever will. The perfect snow-white socks were pulled up to perfect knee height showing just a tinge of brown summer legs as she moved. On her head, as if she’s worn it forever, sat a navy sun hat with a brim so perfect and round. Her dark thick pony tail hung out of reach.  Wisps of stray curls sneaked out from under the hat as if to escape, and tickled her forehead. On her back the ever so big back pack in perfectly matching colour tones, hung long to her waist. Swinging triumphantly in her hand was a flat clip-over bag which she proudly informed us was her ‘library bag’. Later we were to learn that a matching art smock was also neatly rolled up in the back pack. All new and exciting and the perfect beginnings to a new stage of a very young life.

She told us that she had to practice walking to school and when she left she did tiny laps of three neighbour’s house fronts. With the back pack bobbing and the sun hat straight she walked with an air of newly found confidence. She’s a school girl now, alive with anticipation and wonder. With pre-school well behind her and the excitement of Christmas fading she readies herself for the next adventure. The adventure of the big school yard, different kids and new ground rules.

I never fail to feel a bit misty eyed when I see tiny prep children in oversized uniforms. They look fresh, vital, nervous and trusting, so much hope and anticipation. It would be lovely to freeze the moment and have it forever. I’m sure many parents and grandparents find it hard to relinquish the protective space that has been their domain, to the influential shadow of the classroom and school yard.

Makes me think about the large responsibility teachers have. I’m not a teacher but I’d shudder at the very prospect of having to hold the emotions of a group of first time schoolers. These little people arrive with vast differences emotionally, physically and intellectually, coupled with varying expectations as they walk through the school gate. Not to mention of course, the parents, nervous, anxious, apprehensive and for some a little sad. Yes, it’s hard to hand your little person over to a big system no matter how well prepared you are or your child is. I recall hovering in the classroom doorway on my son’s first day at school, reluctant to leave. Then, tip-toeing along the side of the classroom trying to glimpse him through the windows.  As it turned out, he was fine, I was the one who had a tough day!

Well, I hope our little friend enjoys the start of her educational life. All the opportunities and challenges lay ahead. But, this week she rejoices in looking like a school girl in her new uniform with the big back-pack, the shiny shoes and matching sun hat.

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Funny on the outside, sad on the inside?

Posted on January 19, 2014 by Heathermargaret

Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be a funny person?  You know, someone who makes other people laugh. I love being around individuals who have this particular personality, it makes me feel lighter and somehow it takes the seriousness out of life, for a short time anyway! I have to admit to seeking out people with humour and the ability to add a little zest to situations. Yep, a bit of silliness and a good laugh, food for the soul. I consider myself to have a good sense of humour but I don’t think I have the funny gift. I belong to the laughing variety, yes I laugh at other people being funny.

There must however, be a down side to funny making. I can’t believe that the ‘funny battery’ stays charged regardless. So, what about the funny person, when do they do serious or cranky or anxious or sad?  Are they cleverer than the rest of us?  Do these entertaining people have their internal emotional clocks firmly fixed on a permanent well-being switch or is there something else going on? I know when I’m a bit out of sorts I don’t feel as much like laughing at funny quips and jokes. So, is it the same in reverse for the joke makers?

Does being funny come from seeing the world from a particular angle or is it an acquired style that just feels better than serious? Well everyone has met an amusing person who makes light of situations, cracks amusing jokes but nearly always veers away from serious conversations. They can be hard to fathom at times. I have a relative who responds to every conversation with humour and laughter. Interestingly, he avoids sick people, funerals and any situation that has emotional sadness attached. Makes me think that perhaps some funny people don’t get enough practice at displaying sadness and concern. The rest of us (well, some of us!) whinge, laugh and cry our way through life, our friends know when we are worried or happy because we say it or display it. So maybe, the jokers don ‘t get the chance to say or display, perhaps they are too well practised at being funny.

Or is there another level to all of this. Sure, they may not be well practised at being anything except funny, but perhaps the joker is sad on the inside and uses constant humour to keep the miserable, worried or anxious feelings at bay. I don’t think it’s possible to feel funny on the inside and sad on the outside but I suspect that it is very possible to be funny on the outside and feel sad on the inside.

I’m not suggesting that people who are hilariously funny and the ‘life of the party’ are all troubled or sad. It’s just this; maybe we overestimate the happy-go-lucky personality and assume that funny people are always happier than the rest of us. I don’t think they are. We all experience feelings of sadness and despair as well as happiness and joy but I guess we have different ways of presenting ourselves and our feelings to others. Still, it must be a ‘hard ask’ to be funny when inner feelings sometimes contradict outer persona.

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Old Man in the Night

Posted on January 16, 2014 by Heathermargaret

In two thousand and eight I took a taxi from a city hotel to the airport in the early hours of the morning. As the car veered toward the edge of the city I noticed an old man walking under bright lights. Immediately, I was struck by the image and till this day it remains vividly in  my mind. I remember scribbling a few lines in a note-book as the car sped onwards.

Today I discovered amongst other discarded pieces, several lines of verse penned hastily in simple rhyme, on the occasion. I was tempted to work the words a bit but decided to leave them as a spontaneous response to a haunting image. I wonder what happened to the old man?

He shuffles along with his large hessian bag,

His hips walking crooked, his head at a sag,

He seems out-of-place, in the bright flourescent light,

The old man in contrast to the sounds of the night!

Hong Kong bustling, noisy and loud,

Tourists, locals all part of the crowd,

But, non of this matters if your feet are bare,

The old man shuffles, will anybody care?

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Reminiscence – ‘Lost Maryborough’

Posted on January 10, 2014 by Heathermargaret

I suspect we all reminisce in very different ways. The extent to which we think about the past is maybe dependent on our age. As we age we tend to look back as often as we project forward. Reflection and recalling past events can be a powerful and rewarding experience.  However sometimes remembering can also raise painful or difficult memories. Some people simply prefer to forget, reminiscing is not for them, that’s okay, there are no rules to any of this. Not many of us are lucky enough to carry only good or happy memories. The journey of life usually gives us a few tricky bits to navigate. What is interesting to me is even if times were, or remain tough, reflection and memories still seem to hold fascination and take on a special meaning for many.

Recently, I came across an intriguing social media site about my old home town. The site is called ‘Lost Maryborough’. What a delight to find historical photos of schools and public buildings that were so very familiar to me as I grew up. There are videos of older community members sharing their thoughts and memories from days gone by. Old time music played by local musicians at the town dances triggered feelings and familiarity that I had almost forgotten.  Of unique importance is a beautiful collection of quirky but remarkable wedding photos. These photos were taken over fifty years by a well-known local identity (everyone who lived in Maryborough knew this person) who devoted his life interest to weddings, anyone’s wedding! What a nostalgic trip down memory lane this site provides.

At the time, and for several years after I left the comforting clutches of my small country town,  I considered the place boring and lacking sophistication (whatever that was or is!). I think it’s normal for some country people (especially the young) to move away and experience what they think is different and somehow more exciting elsewhere (of course, the secret’s out, it isn’t!) Anyway, so off I went, marrying someone also from my town but working and living elsewhere.

Naturally, we returned on a very regular basis. Our two son’s got to know the place very well and spent many happy holidays with grandparents in Maryborough. New Years Day with piped bands, highland dancing, sporting events and family were part of the deal. They even have special items and letters buried in a time capsule at the Bristol Hill Tower. My sons share an affinity with my home town despite never having lived there. Often referring to Maryborough they remember scuttling up the tower with Nana not far behind. Secretly, they carved their names in the rocks in the bushland!

Interestingly, what I suspect can happen when moving from the place of one’s upbringing to a place of choosing, is that an unintended emotional distancing can creep in. It wasn’t until my Mother, having moved away from the town for a decade, decided in her very old age to move back, that I had to significantly re-engage with a place and space that was familiar but also different. During that period there were times when congruity did not exist for me in Maryborough. The structural landscape was very recognisable but the societal landscape often felt foreign, then a familiar face would appear and the old knowing would return. I should mention that when a familiar face did appear (albeit an older face) it was always such a joy to re-engage with my own early history. Shared historical experience is a connection that is close to a primal response, I suspect. I do wonder however, if this feeling is heightened for someone when they have moved from their orignal place of belonging.

I had a great-uncle who lived all of his adult life away from Maryborough. Over the years he sought out many return visits and loved to reminisce with family members whenever he did so. He lived in Sydney for decades but his final wish was to have his ashes returned home to be buried with his Mother. The family carried out his request and he was finally home where he considered he belonged.

So it seems that reminiscence is an integral part of belonging or perhaps seeking belonging. It stands to reason that as we age and move through the various life stages that reflecting back and making sense of attachments is important. We all need, I suspect, a place and space that represents who we are to a certain extent. As a person who has spent more time away from my original environment than in it, I was delighted to discover when I was viewing ‘Lost Maryborough’ my memories were strong, enjoyable and connected. Reminiscence is a fascinating experience.

This fabulous photo was taken in Maryborough at the Annual Highland Day Gathering Procession on the 1st January 2014 by Geoff Allemand, founder of ‘Lost Maryborough’. Thanks Geoff!

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Forgiveness and Philomena!

Posted on December 28, 2013 by Heathermargaret

Today I saw the movie Philomena. A very special, funny, and moving experience. I don’t want to spoil it for anyone so I’ll hopefully not reveal too much of the plot.  I loved this film but it raised difficult life dilemmas. One of the profound issues that emerged for me was the notion of forgiveness.

We all know people who when spurned, never entertain the possibility of having anything to do with the offending person or family again. I think of this as ‘cut off’ behaviour when a person seems to have little capacity or willingness to enter a space of understanding, let alone forgiveness. For reasons unknown some individuals can only operate in black or white, never in grey, so a stance of cutting off appears to be the only bearable option. Final and definite these simple rules are often I suspect, self protective and yet appear unforgiving. Interestingly, some people have a very low threshold for hurt and often find themselves disenfranchised from friends and families over relatively minor difficulties. Of course, it is easy to have conversations and opinions on the matters that I have raised so far.

However, there are some life events that effect and change how people’s lives are lived forever. The forced removal of children from their biological parents until well into the nineteen eighties caused young women enormous trauma and stress which was often suffered in silence. Not all adoptions were forced but many young women felt they had no options. They didn’t. It wasn’t until the 1970’s in Australia when the Whitlam Government introduced a single mothers’ benefit that there was any support available. Prior to that they were often told to ‘do the best thing for the child’, that is, ‘let the child have a proper family, a mother and a father’. Families in those times were fearful of the stigma associated with babies being born out-of-wedlock. Attempting to avoid shame and embarrassment, some families sent their daughters away to other towns until the birth and subsequent adoption took place.  Some young women were sent to institutions similar to the one in the film Philomena, to ensure the pregnancy was kept secret.

Of course generalising about how people are effected by similar events in their lives is never a wise thing to do. Everyone is different and we all devise and utilise different coping skills to manage trauma. For some people and maybe some of the women I refer to, to cut off or walk away was the only tolerable way to keep their life happening. We do know however, that many relinquishing mothers felt and still feel intense anger and rage toward the systems that denied them their babies so many years ago. Would it be reasonable to ask these women to forgive? Would they want to forgive and if they did, what would it mean to them?

Is forgiving necessary for personal healing? There might be some people who have suffered incredible life events such as sexual abuse, physical and emotional violence and other violations might say yes, many would say no. Is there healing in being able to forgive someone, group or system for the wrong or wrongs perpetrated by them? It seems to me that the decision to forgive is complex and very personal.

Is there any power in forgiveness? We know that when we are on the receiving end of abuse and threatening behaviour that one of the most potent and overwhelming emotions is one of powerlessness.  I wonder then, if being able to forgive actually regains the power once taken? Or does power exist in being able to rise against the wrong by never forgiving?

Philomena the film reflected two different and intersecting positions. We saw how forgiveness was depicted as a cathartic moment for the character Philomena. A poignant and personal decision to forgive an unbelievable wrong against her and her child allowed Philomena to take back or regain some of the lost power (or so it seemed). Of course nothing could change the past events but the action in this instance (in my humble opinion) stripped the Catholic Church of power in a very small but profound way for Philomena.

On the other hand we saw the character Martin demonstrate rage and anger for the system that had inflicted and carried out unspeakable and cruel acts towards the young women in the film. Speaking out and holding the outrage and anger can be the intervention that can expose and change systems and organisations from covering up or repeating the original abuses. This is how change and retribution occurs, is it not?

So it seems that forgiveness has its place and can in some circumstances provide important therapeutic value. Not forgiving also has an important role to play, exposing wrong and speaking out can also be therapeutic.  Once again, I think this is a very personal decision. It seems to me, that there is no right or wrong and the only person who has the right to forgive or not forgive is the person against whom the wrong has been committed. Philomena did it her way!

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Grace!

Posted on December 15, 2013 by Heathermargaret

Recently, I had lunch with five friends from my ‘Writers Group’. As a group of writers we discuss various issues, often related, sometimes unrelated to what one of us is writing about. Mostly we are novelists and so sometimes I think we seek to have discussions that unintentionally take us from our own long and tedious journeys with our manuscripts. Anyway, we were ‘chewing the fat ‘ about personal characteristics and ways of being in the world, when the topic of ‘grace’ emerged. We all had a different take on what the word or notion of grace actually is. Curiously, we found ourselves fascinated with the possibilities.

For many people, grace clearly has religious connotations, for others it might mean a state of mind or even a particular manner by which one can express themselves. For some individuals even, grace has overtones of power. Graceful movements are also often attributed to dance and ballet and even general personal elegance. Grace is a word often used in many different contexts and situations, so pardon us for getting caught up in the confusion.

A couple of months ago whilst travelling near Cooma in New South Wales, I noticed a large sign on a rather insignificant and small church. It read, ‘God Gives Grace to the Humble’! I have to admit to not being an overly religious person but when I read that verse it struck an emotional chord. I loved the combination of the six words, the soft lilt and sound as I spoke them to myself, they held meaning to me well beyond what I can explain!  So, I looked up the text in the bible and it seems there are several references (I’m entering dangerous territory now as I don’t know much about the bible!) Okay I say, ‘ let’s see what this is all about?’

In James 4:6 it says: God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble. In Proverbs 3:34 it says: Surely he scorneth the scorners: but giveth grace to the lowly. So this is what the church sign was sort of saying. Sure, perhaps there was a bit of modern-day license and refinement of the message (I’ll be in trouble again because I don’t really know this but…!). So, it seems that the teachings from the church say that if we are humble, God rewards us with the gift of Grace. Yes I know, my religious understanding lacks sophistication but I’ll remain humble and curious and beg forgiveness if I have this wrong!

Can one have grace without being humble? It seems not. Are these states of mind  necessarily linked only to being a Christian or any other religion? Not necessarily. Can one be humble and act gracefully to others from purely a humanistic position? Well, I think so. It  seems that the teachings of christianity are ways geared towards instructing and guiding. Telling stories to illustrate the point, but,  so too is applying respect for the human condition. However, I have to admit to being challenged by the biblical verse on the church wall. It allowed me to apply a humanistic position to the notion of grace and humility. I rather love the notion of humility being rewarded. Whether it is rewarded by God or by a sense of wellbeing is immaterial to me.

Grace is a word (as well as an unconscious notion or state?) that sounds like velvet, it washes over and smooths and soothes, it sounds soft and gentle, and is beautiful when whispered (try it!). Can grace belong or be gained by anyone? I certainly hope so but it seems we have to work for it. If we want to have some grace in our lives it appears that we have to be humble, be more conscious of what we do and say in order to earn just a little smidgen of grace. So, grace is hard to find maybe!

I also wonder if when we ‘blot our copy book’, do we lose already accumulated grace?  Yep, I think so. But, what I really like about this whole area of humility and grace is; that we are  personally and individually responsible for it. Yes, I alone have choices about how to act. Doesn’t that mean that as human beings we can choose to be humble (or act in ways that illustrate humility) and therefore earn our own grace?  For instance, I am responsible for and in charge of being humble, generous, respectful, thoughtful or even just plain courteous. Clearly, we have choices over how we behave to others.  Also, if we believe that grace is a state of wellbeing resulting from humble behaviour and we choose not to be humble, then I guess we suffer the consequences. . .no grace!

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The Line!

Posted on December 6, 2013 by Heathermargaret

I like December. It seems to me that the end of the year marks a very definite ‘line in the sand’, a demarcation that slows us down and represents the end of something. For instance, the piles of papers on my writing-table, I’ve just sorted them and already half have been deemed redundant. The others, I will leave until January and my guess is that most of them will become insignificant when a whole New Year looms large.

Matters that have been concerning along the way and issues that caused distress during the year somehow lose some of their importance and solutions become clearer. Am I the only one who views the end of the year as a sort of cleansing opportunity? I hear many people say ‘next year I will get on top of this’ or ‘I’m pleased to wipe the slate clean and start again’. Well, I understand that thinking. It’s refreshing to have an opportunity to review, assess and start afresh. It doesn’t necessarily mean that problems, issues or tricky situations magically disappear or are resolved but the line does give time out. And we all need time, a small rest from life’s pressing or mundane routine to reflect and become calm perhaps. Well at least I know I do.

Now, I don’t wish to sound trite or even worse like a modern-day ‘Pollyanna’! Of course there are many things that we certainly cannot draw a line in the sand about. In fact, the larger and more serious issues and problems in life do not go away just because we stop for festive and holiday celebrations. No, people dealing with ill-health, serious family problems, major trauma and grief, do not get the luxury of taking time out. For some families and individuals, December and the expectations that this time of year places on community and family only adds difficulty.

But for many, who are fortunate enough to be able to take a break, there are benefits. Having time to reflect and evaluate can be an exercise in personal growth and a chance to look forward to a New Year with hope and positivity. Opportunities, I surmise, come from a healthy level of hope and positive thinking.

And for me, the invisible line that I draw at the end of the year gives space for clearing and letting go of the old stuff. All the poorly planned projects, the half-baked ideas, the negative experiences, the worry and anxiety (well, maybe!) and the promised changes that I didn’t actually achieve.

Next year always offers the unknown. A block of time and space to play with.  A bit like a new house in which the furniture can be strategically arranged.  And yes, I suspect that when the end of the year line is in sight it represents a brief ‘window of opportunity’, all over again!

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