Take delight in their delight

Earlier this year, a simple but profound piece of advice was given to me. This slice of very practical wisdom was handed to my teacher by his teacher as they trod the strange social rubble of the British Isles. After many years spent in foreign lands, I am back in this very same rubble, though it is now in a more conspicuous state of decay than it was a decade ago.

I seek a certain depth of interaction, and have tended to find the majority of social situations less than satisfying. On many occasions, I have come away with a mild but lingering disappointment. This disappointment doesn’t originate in being perturbed by the sense that I am an outsider. I no longer attribute this ‘status’ to fatal character flaws or social ineptness – I know that I am simply here doing something different. But how do I connect? How do I feel into the human interactions that are placed in front of me?

I forget about my own personal enjoyment and satisfaction.

Instead, I take delight in their delight.

This sweet and simple little sentence has transformed a sense of lack into one of fullness. It is gently kicking out remnants of my own egoic disdain towards humanity. It has created another little chink in my falsely constructed armour of self. When I practice opening my heart to the delight of another human being, I am touched by the joy that I encounter. It is a beautiful, simple exchange. In forgetting about my own fulfilment, my fulfilment increases.

Inevitably, there are times when the levels of delight in the external theatre are low. There is only act, gloss and performance in the name of social lubrication. What now? What if the behaviours being presented are destructive or disharmonious?

“Forgive them father for they know not what they do”

Answers in the bible, by way of a wise and articulate friend of mine. This phrase acknowledges and requests penance for the sorrow of unconscious human operation. How perfectly apt. Shifting it into the first person and directing it back to a young, rage-filled self feels healing. Applying it in moments where one’s own conduct could be improved is humbling.

“Forgive me father for I know not what I do”

These two approaches of delight and forgiveness form a perfect compliment to one another. They are helping me to step out of my hermit’s nest more often and with greater willingness. They bring an increased sense of lightness to my days, which is a blessing in these strange times.

Shelter in the rock, central Portugal, 2016

With gratitude to Mother Hodge

The immensity of despair

In the excruciating monochrome of daily chores, 
 the savage and the predatory feed. 
Ignorance and deception move hand in hand, 
 enfolding their barren forms into human thought and action. 
 Across the land, familiar pairings of victim and oppressor 
 engage in their carnal battles of distraction.
The avoidance of generations unravels at the seams. 

 Fast, fleshy temptations slice through the hollow loop
 of the modern and the mundane - 
this mortal vessel is vulnerable to the call of oblivion.
Parasitic, painful and strange: 
here is the splendour and obscenity of our descent into the material. 

 We dwell in boundless landscapes of futility, 
 stifled by the immensity of despair. 
 In subservience, such fathomless sadness. 
 In vanity, such beautiful diversion. 
 The weight of the unfelt rests heavy on sensing shoulders - 
 it is hard to be in this realm. 
 Set apart in the intimacy of suffering, 
 we remain at liberty to learn. 

4th July, England.