Peaceful protest

There’s a lot of talk on various Druid groups at the moment about both the warrior path, and the peace path. There are Druids who subscribe to both approaches. The Ancient Celts after all were not averse to a punch up, but the Druids could, it is said, step out between two armies and instruct them to stop.

I don’t think a modern Druid has much scope for stepping in front of the EDL, or other angry people, and making much progress by asking them to stop, but perhaps it would be worth a go anyway. Part of me suspects that’s a one way ticket to getting shouted at, if not thumped, but as I’ve not dealt directly with anyone from the EDL, I’m hardly in a position to comment.

I’m a rural Druid at the moment. About the closest we get to conflict within the community round here is when two tractors are trying to go in opposite directions down the same lane. This is a quiet place. No one is going to riot, or march, or do anything else. That has let me off the hook a bit, and not having a car I’m not well placed to travel to where there are problems.

What would I do if there was unrest on my doorstep? I think it would depend a lot on the nature of the unrest. There are plenty of things I think need protesting about and that I would march over, were there anyone around to influence. The sheep are pretty disinterested on this subject, although my local badgers are developing an unfortunately large degree of political awareness, I suspect.

I would not take arms, or go out expecting to fight. Partly because I am woefully out of practice, partly because a quarterstaff would draw all the wrong sort of attention in the first place, partly because I have no desire to hit anyone. I would like to think that if it came down to it, if people where I lived were marching with hatred and an intention to do violence, I would find in myself the courage to take my body into that space and simply put my flesh in their way. Not aggressively, but accepting the likelihood of violence in order to slow down, protect, discourage.

It’s one of those things. Until we are tested, all the ideas about what we *might* do are hypothetical. Would I have the courage to face being arrested if honour demanded that I put myself in opposition to the police? I think about activists who have gone to court, and sometimes won, standing up for the idea that powerful entities do not have the right to run roughshod over individuals. Would I be brave enough to do that? I think of the three women in Woolwich who tackled the psychos still holding weapons, who had killed Lee Rigby. Do I have what it takes to walk forward in such a situation?

I do not know.

We only find out whether we can truly walk our talk when we are tested to our limits and beyond. What I do know, is how grateful I am for the times when I am not being tested, when I am not overwhelmed by impossible choices or being asked to put my life on the line for honour or justice. Some people do that every day in their normal line of work, and I am deeply grateful to them for shouldering that weight for the sake of the rest of us.

Druid community

There are a lot of places online where Druids gather to talk, and there is a lot of diversity in Druidry. One of the things that depresses the hell out of me, is when debate generates into angry shouting. It does this rather a lot. As there are a number of different, well established approach to Druidry (as well as all the individual stuff) this more-druidy-than-thou attitude doesn’t seem that well founded. Even in conversations about how Druids are supposed to be peacemakers, we get it wrong. It makes me sad.

However, I’ve seen this week a Druid group over on google, where on the whole some quite strenuous discussion has happened without descending into the other stuff. This inspires me. It is important to be able to debate the hard topics, to be able to hear ideas that do not fit with our own. I think it is healthy and important to be challenged, to be required to explain your thinking, show your evidence and deal with people you don’t agree with.

It’s pretty easy to be a peaceful Druid when there’s no conflict available. That isn’t actual peace, it’s just a convenient setup. Real peace is being able to handle conflict without it getting nasty or destructive. This is where we really test ourselves, really find out if we can walk our talk. It doesn’t mean we have to agree, or like each other, or persuade everyone to think the same. It really comes down to respect, and being able to acknowledge that my truth may look different to your truth, and that we can live with this.

I get excited by challenges to my thinking and people who know stuff that I don’t. It’s part of my on-going love affair with being a student. I want to understand. That means encountering stuff that initially makes no sense to me, and rather than rejecting it, trying to engage with it. I get a real buzz out of those. So yes, I have tried to figure out why so many Druids don’t seem to get all excited when they run into someone with a different perspective. I think there are two factors. One is that we are not, as a community, taking manners seriously enough as an issue. It’s all well and good being passionate and plainly spoken, but that can be done without actually being rude to people, I think. Encountering rudeness is a big turn off when it comes to tackling alternative perspectives. The other part is more a protective/fear issue. The more you have invested in your beliefs, the more uncomfortable it may be to have them argued with.

We live in a context full of religions and politicians all claiming a monopoly on truth. Anyone who isn’t strident can seem wishy-washy, undecided, not properly dedicated to their cause. And yet, step back a moment and it should be obvious that mostly none of us have any hope of truth monopoly. The bigger the truth, the harder it will be to grasp. Is my truth really at odds with your truth? Are we in fact groping the same elephant without realising it? (I love that story). I want to know what the elephant looks like. So if I can attach your bit to my bit, I will probably still be way off the mark, but now instead of a big flappy thing, I’ve got a flappy thing attached to a ropey thing. It’s still wrong, but it is a bit less wrong, and I’ll keep looking, keep wondering.

In the meantime, if I find I’ve irritated someone online where I didn’t mean to, I don’t get cross with them, I say sorry. I find it remarkably effective. If I’m not sure I understand what they mean, I don’t get cross, I ask what they mean. If someone misreads aggression into my words, I don’t get cross with them, I apologise for not having been clear enough, assure them that I’m not hostile, and try again. Why? Because just arguing with people is dull and pointless, and I’m not interested in scoring points or proving I am more right. Actually, being less right is more interesting, it means I get to learn something.

Where people are polite, show respect, actually listen, the conversations are amazing. We really could do more of this.

The consequences of anger

Plenty of religions (and Yoda) discourage anger, but we don’t talk much beyond vague ‘bad karma’ and ‘god doesn’t like it’ ideas about the consequences of anger. There are times when rage is a good and needful thing, enabling us to change perceptions, change our lives and so forth. There are times when dramatic upheavals and huge responses are called for. The trouble is that the anger lingers on long after the moment has passed. The echoes of historical injustice, the memory of pain, can keep us trapped in a moment that has actually gone. I know because I’ve done it. Then there are the smaller things that people let themselves get angry about, and can still be bringing up years after they happened. I don’t think I do that much, but I’ve been on the receiving end of it, and yes, that makes me angry. It’s so easy to get angry with someone else’s anger, too, and escalate the thing up into something truly hideous.

I feel anger as a physical tension in my body, and there’s a definite relationship between it, and anxiety. A lot of my anxiety has to do with the things I am also angry about. I don’t want them to happen to me again. I don’t want to be a victim. I’m angry because I am afraid, and afraid because I am angry and round it goes. Live there and it will make you very, very ill. My experience of angry people suggests that a significant number (but not all) are angry defensively, trying to protect themselves from wrongs and threats, real and imagined. When the threats are real, the anger can be useful. When the threats are imagined, the anger is as dangerous to the person holding it as to anyone else. Someone who has got into the habit of feeling afraid may no longer be able to tell the difference. There are people who are determined to cast themselves in the victim role so as to justify lashing out in anger against others as well.

There are people who seem to enjoy being angry. It can, after all, feel powerful. And yes, the righteous anger that throws off the chains of slaves and brings down tyrannies is a good kind of power, but that can get addictive. Of course when we are angry we want to believe that we have the moral high ground and are entitled to hit out, with words or fists. We want to feel good about manifesting our rage. Movies are full of examples of ‘heroes’ who do just this, reinforcing our beliefs about how good it is to crush the opposition. Only it isn’t good. It leads to retaliation and feuds. It leads to broken relationships that cannot be fixed. As soon as you get into win/lose scenarios, everyone loses.
It’s not easy stepping away from what you firmly believe to be righteous indignation. That hunger for justice, that need to have your pain recognised, the desire that other people should do something about it… I’ve seen what it does. I’ve yet to see someone come out of the angry place actually happy with the outcome. It’s not about the winning, it’s about what the being angry does to you. It robs you of peace. It keeps you revisiting all the things that hurt. There comes a time to put it behind you, learn what you can and move on. Where that place is will vary depending on person and circumstance of course, it’s not for anyone else to dictate who should be ‘over it’ by now.

I’m alert to signs that people are angry because they are afraid. Sometimes those can be eased with a gentler, more careful approach. I’m not going to be angry with someone because they need me to be more careful with them – that would be pointless, and would entrench the fear. I’ve had people get angry with me on those terms, it achieves nothing good, and creates more misery. If I think someone just enjoys being angry, I’ve learned not to argue because there’s no point, it just makes them worse. Better to walk away and come back if they calm down. I’m not interested in being a whipping post.

My own anger, I am trying to turn into something else. I’m not prepared to let it keep me in an afraid place. Anger can also feed courage. It can be the motivation to stand up and say or do what is necessary – not to strike back, not to lash out or to hurt but to calmly face down and try to fix. The kind of anger that would enable me to calmly support other people who need help, and calmly not escalate things when other people are being bloody stupid. It’s not about supressing the feelings, or not experiencing anger, it’s not letting it run on and not wilfully feeding it to get to some dramatic shouty place, and not enabling the people around me to go their either. Not that I live with anyone shouty anymore, but there’s a whole world out there…

Hearing the voice of spirit

…for without peace, the voice of spirit cannot be heard.

Hearing your own voice, your own spirit, is absolutely key to being able to think clearly and to engage with the world. Modern life readily fills the head with noise and clutter. We create environments that barrage us with overloads of information, noise, people, activity and all of it making demands on our awareness. Half of your mind may well be working hard just to tune all the rubbish out while the rest… work and family, dinner, shopping, what was on TV last night, what a neighbour said, something in the news… its easy to spend most of the time with a head full of half processed ideas, half formed thoughts, barely chewed input, and undigested information. Amidst all of this chaos, there isn’t much scope for thinking like a Druid or hearing the voice of spirit – yours, much less anything else’s.

This is primarily a post for people who are trying to get started, trying to work out how to become a Druid. However, the exercise is a good one, and works any time there’s too much white noise between the ears and you need some clarity.

First, make time. At least a couple of hours. If you aren’t willing to give a few hours to your spiritual self, you’ve got problems that go far beyond the ‘how to be a Druid’ issue. Find the time. Make the time. Get some sensible shoes, carry a drink and some snacks, turn the phone off, and walk. Go somewhere you won’t meet people you know and get side tracked into chatting. Countryside and trees are good, but use what you’ve got. If you aren’t physically able to walk, then swimming works too, up and down in the lanes, and if that’s beyond you, just shoot for getting some quiet space.

There are several advantages to walking. Firstly it makes you unavailable to anyone who might want to demand your time and attention. This gives you valuable space. Secondly it engages you outside with the landscape – urban ones work just as well as rural ones really. Thirdly, after long enough, the rhythm of walking has an effect on your mind. If you run well enough to be able to run and think about something else, odds are running will work too.

The likelihood is that for at least the first half hour, your mind will still be full of white noise. This is fine, don’t try and fight it or suppress it. Try to follow those thoughts through, deal with them, tidy them up. It takes as long as it takes. Between the letting yourself think, and the rhythm of walking, a process will happen, by which all that noise and inner muddle slowly resolves out into one, coherent voice. One stream of thought that is deliberate and focused. Your own voice.

Once you find that inner voice, then getting it back becomes ever easier, and the more time you spend with it, the more normal it becomes to be clear headed and thinking in a calm and deliberate way. This in turn paves the way to being able to properly think about your life and its challenges. You stop being someone who reacts, and can become someone who acts. That alone is incredibly powerful. Having your soul voice present to you makes it possible to meditate and undertake deep contemplation work with far greater ease.

When you know what your own voice sounds like, the rubbish that gets flung at your head from the outside becomes that much more distasteful. You will start wanting to preserve your peace and the integrity of your mind. This will affect the technology, entertainment and situations you expose yourself to, and this in turn changes how you are able to think. A process, cyclical in nature, begins, in which you become ever more yourself, ever more clear within yourself and ever more able to resist the things that deprive you of your inner calm and ability to hear the song of your own soul.

It begins with a walk, long enough to enter your own quiet.

By peace and love to stand

We swear, by peace and love to stand, heart to heart and hand in hand. Mark, oh spirits and hear us now, confirming this, our sacred vow.

I was out with the Sapling Bards today for a mistletoe rite. It was a lovely gathering and I had the pleasure of meeting a great many excellent people, putting some faces to names I already knew, and reconnecting with some dear friends. It was a lovely day in a lovely space, and the rainbows were more than compensation for the rain.
We used the Druid’s Prayer, as above. It’s a common feature of Druid rituals and I have said it many times in the past, in the company of many others. I found myself reflecting during the prayer – it’s repeated three times so there is time for a fair bit of thinking – about people I’ve shared that prayer with in the past. Good friends I’ve not seen in too long. People I met once and have not seen since. And those other, more troubled connections where peace and love did not get much of a look in, when it came to the crunch. I wondered, as I often do, what I could have done that would have been better.
I care about peace, especially the sort that comes from cooperation, restorative justice and compassion. Retribution is just a way of extending the suffering all round and that never struck me as being a good idea. But when people fall out in extreme ways and become unable to tolerate each other, where is there room for compassion or gentleness? What happens when one heart is so closed, impenetrable or incomprehensible to another that no amount of ‘heart to heart’ seems to help? What happens when the peace and love we swear not only to those in circle, but to anyone we want to be in honourable relationship with, is betrayed? I don’t have any answers.
Sometimes its not within the gift of a given individual to make everything right. We are beings of finite power, and seeing the wrong does not means being able to fix it, and wanting to fix it isn’t always enough either. We have to forgive the people who are not able to be what we want them to be. I know, that to move forwards I have to forgive myself for the things that I had no control over and no means to repair. I think its when we start to imagine that we *should* be able to set all to rights that we can start driving ourselves mad with a sense of inadequacy, or having to lie to ourselves to make us seem like we’re better than we are. Worse still is what happens when someone is so desperate to seem right that they lie to everyone to hold that illusion, wreaking emotional havoc as an inevitable consequence rather than admit to being human. I’ve seen what that one can do and it isn’t pretty.
People of integrity and good heart make mistakes. Often for the best of reasons and with excellent intentions. I’ve had some horrible things done to me by people I know thought they were acting for the greater good. I don’t feel good about that, but I’ve tried to understand it. I’ve been on the wrong end of self importance, and power gaming, and people driven by fear and all manner of tricky human things. I have misunderstood things in ways that caused pain to others, I have been rash, inconsiderate, short sighted, I have made a thousand and one tiny errors of judgement that will have caused unnecessary suffering. As do most people. The trick is to try and learn, and not beat yourself into an ineffectual pulp in response. We all mess up. It’s the point when we choose to believe that we’re on opposite sides to some fellow human being that we’re really in trouble. When there are sides, you make losing inevitable and no one really wins at all. Where there’s cooperation, there is also hope, and scope for improvement.
Today I swore peace and love to a group of people I mostly don’t know. The odds are that will never be tested in any significant way. But when it is, you find out whether your oaths were strong enough to hold, and sometimes they won’t be. But without the hope that I could offer those bonds of love and peace, I could not get into circle with anyone. I have to be able to say it and mean it and trust that those around me are meaning it too, even though I know that sometimes those words are not upheld.
Mark, oh spirits, and hear us now…
And never let me become complacent about what any of this means.

At war with myself

One of my dominant childhood memories is of falling over. I did this a lot, especially if I tried to run. The amazing disappearing ankles would put me on the ground. I was born with my feet squashed against my shins, and my ankles have never been right. I’ve never been good at running, either, and this was a constant source of frustration to me, growing up. I could dance though, and started ballet very young. It’s possible I was comfortable about dancing before I felt ok walking – in ballet the heels are often slightly off the ground, and this suits me better. At fourteen I found that the amazing disappearing ankles would not permit point work, and I had to give up.

There are one or two other interesting features of my body that result in it being a constant fight to get it to do what I want. Then, once a month I get beaten up by my own reproductive system, sometimes badly enough to put me in bed for a day. Right now my wisdom teeth are moving and it feels like my jawbone is trying to climb out through my ear.

I use the language of separation deliberately, talking about my body and myself as distinct and different. Rather a lot of the time it feels like the me on the inside is engaged in ongoing warfare with my body. Who I am on the inside has never been the same as the dysfunctional biology I live in. We do not get on, my body and I. We fight about almost everything. There are times when I want to scream ‘stop doing this to me’ at my own systems, but there’s no point, they wouldn’t listen. And for –s sake, why won’t it listen? My body, my brain, my reproductive system, my evil wisdom teeth. But no, I have no control. My conscious mind doesn’t get any kind of say in any of this.

There are days when all of this makes me wonder about the nature of consciousness, and what it means to be human. Intelligent Design? Not in this anatomy, I can tell you. I’m more than happy to believe that the flesh I inhabit came about through a long serious of random accidents. That would fit the bill. Life experience does incline me to feel like an ephemeral soul trapped inside flesh, limited by it, restricted and longing for freedom. I spent my teens wishing I could fly away, and there are still days when the idea occurs.

What if the biology is me? What if this is the only me I’ve got? No soul, no romantic, fleeing spirit, just the cells. It means no turning out to be a swan after all, no hope of transcending this flesh and moving on to something better.

I’ve made my Druidry very much about embracing life, and the body. The theory is good. This body drives me round the bend though. Surely it would be easier not to want to transcend, if I had a more useful and co-operative body? But so many people are far less able and functional than me. I’m merely inconvenienced, not crippled. How to find the balance? How to be a fleshy thing with something on the inside that never feels like it fits. There are moments when mind and body are working together and I achieve a sense of wholeness, a peace with myself. Mostly those depend on the body co-operating. Mostly it doesn’t.

Are any of us who we want to be? Does the notion of soul appeal so much because we are all swans inside the bodies of ugly ducklings? Frog Princes and other trapped and transformed beings crop up often in both fairy tales and myths. Is it that sense of being more than the biology allows that has us imagining the soul, and some kind of entity within, not defined by our physical limitations? Who are we really?

Making peace

For me, the quest for peace, both within and without is a significant part of what Druidry is for. It’s not what we do, it should be where what we do takes us. Harmony in any aspect of life, creates peace. Resolution, restorative justice, understanding and compassion all lead the way to peace as well. The deep contemplative work that has become intrinsic to my daily life enables me to develop understanding, to cultivate inner calm, make my peace with experiences. I’ve learned when to get on the soap-box and shout, as well. The ‘peace’ that comes from ignoring problems, turning a blind eye to injustice and pretending all is well, is no true peace, just a fragile illusion that can be stripped from us at any time. Real inner peace and resilience are realistic things to be cultivating. Peace in the external world is a project that will require everyone to participate. As such, we won’t get there any time soon, but every contribution matters.

I’ve been pondering a lot what to do in the aftermath of conflict. Unconditional forgiveness can be a way of giving people permission to re-offend, so I’m not keen on that. Holding on to anger is not good for the cultivation of inner peace though. I’ve been working on adopting attitudes of pity and compassion that allow me to feel sorry for the other person, where there is unresolved conflict. Functionally, it allows me to be gentle and patient with them, without offering the kind of acceptance that says ‘oh sure, kick me like that any time.’ Tacitly allowing people to mistreat me does no one any good. I suffer, and they do not learn to do any better.

Where the mistake is owned, it’s always a lot easier to move forward. It can be painful, daunting, even humiliating to admit a mistake, and the bigger the error, the more uncomfortable it gets. But, in owning it, it becomes possible to make changes, to ask for guidance and to explore what might have worked better. Of course there are people who will take an apology and use it as a stick to beat you with, but this is not honourable behaviour, it’s aggressive, abusive behaviour. The person who confesses, apologises and is trying to fix things, always deserves the space in which to try and do just that.

I’ve yet to find a conflict situation in which I couldn’t have handled it better. So, even when I feel that on the whole I’m in the right, I’m always looking to see where I could have done a better job, and what I can learn. Just because I think my behaviour isn’t troubling, doesn’t mean, for example, that I can’t push other people’s buttons by accident and cause pain unknowingly. Those lessons I want to learn and those situations need catching, and dealing with. A mistake, based on error or lack of insight is one of those human things, we all do it. The person who won’t look and repeats, is deliberately careless and that’s a whole other thing. There’s always scope to do better. My main area of weakness comes from misunderstanding. I’m sensitive to the nuances of language, and I get into a lot of difficulty with people who use language carelessly and imprecisely, who say what they do not mean, speak ‘off the cuff’. If I could get the hang of spotting those as they happen, I wouldn’t have to mop up after the event, and that would be definite progress.

It’s impossible to make, or hold peace with someone who is always right. Good relationship depends on negotiation, listening, a willingness to compromise and a willingness to seek the solution that works best for everyone. If one person is always right, and everyone else is always wrong, there’s just no space in which to do the essential relationship things. What you have then is tyranny. We all see things differently, have different needs, respond in our own ways and so forth. There is no one right way of being human. Negotiation enables us to find peaceful ways of co-existing. Being right all the time does not.

Just because a thing looks right from my perspective does not make it right for anyone else. If I refuse to consider that I could be wrong, or just not right from another angle, I pass up an opportunity to learn, and grow. To be human is to be less than perfect. Working with a recognition of that can build peace, within and without, but the more right, justified and entitled you think you are, the harder that is to achieve.

Managing the energy

It’s all gone mad. My whole life. Not in a bad way, I hasten to add, but this is the kind of crazy rush that ought, in theory to happen at midsummer, and didn’t. This is not normally a ‘rush’ time of year for me. Some years when I’ve been pickling and preserving, it’s been busy, but not like this. Part of it is a direct consequence of my shout out earlier in the week. The response has been amazing – as a consequence I’m writing two or three articles a day plus this blog, trying to meet demand. It’s stunning, humbling, inspiring to find so many people are willing to put something of mine into the world. (And, do keep them coming, I’m holding pace, I will get articles to everyone who asks, and each article will be unique).

I’ve just been asked if I’ll read a book with a view to putting an endorsement on it. This is a first. A gobsmacking, overjoying first. There is no greater validation as a writer, than some other writer liking you and your stuff so much that they want an endorsement. Sales are lovely, fans are lovely, and startling, but this is a whole other level and my head is reeling.

I’m talking to a review site, that I want to work for and that may be interested in me. Things are moving for Tom as well, with all kinds of glorious chaos potential there too.

This morning I wrote a gothic short story, destined for an audio project with some great people. I have a series to write, and the creativity is flowing.

At the moment it feels like hurtling down a slope on a tin tray. It’s all going very fast. I have some semblance of control, but probably not as much as I need. Stopping could be messy…

Many of the creatures I love most are absolutely adept at harnessing the natural environment. Buzzards ride the wind, and I watch them most days, soaring effortlessly, using what is there. It’s so easy to get buffeted about, blown off course, thumped into trees though, for creatures like myself who are not adept at flying. My Druidry of the last few years has been so much about a quest for balance, peace and stability. I’m caught in a tidal wave of awen, a tsunami of potential, and am quite aware that it could crush me. I need to become the sort of creature that can ride the currents, harness the wind.

I know from past experience that the crazier the rush, the harder the crash, but I want this life, and I want the many things that are opening up before me.

Morganwg and me

Iolo Morganwg heavily influenced the foundation of the Welsh eistedfodd movement, and his work contributed significantly to shaping modern druidry. He was a ‘scholar’ who ‘discovered’ a lot of ancient texts and brought them to public attention. In reality he made it all up, but his motto was ‘the truth against the world’.

Morganwg is one of the most fascinating and problematic figures you could hope to encounter. His influence is huge, his genius considerable, and his ethical position bloody awkward. He had a vision of brotherhood, peace and learning that is absolutely inspiring, but at the same time appears to be a total rogue, only in it for his own financial and social gain. Not that he got very far on either score.

I’ve had a bit of a love hate relationship with him, to be honest. My feelings swing from admiration to loathing, delight to frustration and have never settled. My own Druidry clearly owes more than a bit to his work. I like the line ‘The truth against the world’ so much that I stole it and used it as a the tagline for a fictional newspaper on a fictional island (www.hopelessvendetta.wordpress.com) Hopeless being the island, The Hopeless Vendetta being the newspaper, and the truth against the world seeming like a precise description of a hopeless vendetta, all things considered.

When it comes down to it, its not actually Morganwg’s fault that the ancient Druids did not really bequeath us the texts we all wanted them to. And how many of us, if we thought we could get away with it, wouldn’t do what he did? Look around the world of pagan and new age publishing and you’ll see all manner of things from curious, I might even say dubious sources. These days we are less likely to claim the discovery of ancient documents and more likely to say we ‘channelled’ it. And of course once you start channelling ancient wisdom, it’s funny how often it’ll turn out to sit really neatly alongside your personal agenda and beliefs.

So, what would I get is I tried to channel the spirit of Morganwg? What would he bring to this day and age? Something attention grabbing, no doubt. Something that would aim to bring in the coins and probably fail, but that’s okay because I’m not that focused on the money really. Something daring, and ridiculous, and not as well grounded as it should have been. Something exciting and inspiring, an idea that is better than the message bearer themselves.

Other people ask, what would Jesus do, or with tongue a little in cheek, what would Odin do? Although there is much about the man that drives me crazy, I am asking, what would Morganwg do? And I have no doubt, if I pull an answer out of the ether, it will be one that suits and serves me, because that really is the nature of the beast.

Brotherhood is a bit outdated and un-pc. Peoplehood then. Learning. Peace. Something showy. Something crazy. It’s like the ingredients for a witchy brew. I am putting things in the cauldron. The one thing I know I’m never going to do is leap up and proclaim I’ve found the one great truth, but probably old Glamorgan Eddie can forgive me for that one.

Making Peace

The internet is full of things that will make you angry. Right now, someone is desecrating that which you hold most sacred. Someone is spouting rubbish so unbearable that you will think it dangerous. We can choose to seek out opportunities to be offended and upset, or we can choose to avoid them. In our personal lives, we can choose to dwell on wrongs committed against us, or we can tune them out. We can forgive, or not. At first glance the acts of ignoring would seem like the ones most likely to engender a sense of inner peace. I don’t think this is so. There’s a process to undertake here, and there are balances to strike.

Ignoring wrongs very simply condones them and facilitates their continuing. Turning a blind eye may assist our equilibrium in the short term, but if we are truly being abused in some way – be that by those around us, government bodies, institutionalised prejudice and the like, ignoring won’t fix it or make it go away. Usually the reverse happens. To get to a point of peace it is often necessary to tackle any external sources of difficulty. Sometimes the only option we have is to move away from the source of the problem, but this isn’t always peace-inducing. Leaving a festering pool of wrongness and pollution behind may well create in you a legacy of wondering what was harmed next, or whether it spread. The peace of knowing the problem is truly resolved, is like no other. The future is lining up a few opportunities for me to tackle aspects of my past. I mean to make the best use of them that I can. I want peace, and I want specifically the kind of peace that comes from having sorted things out and done the right things.

When confronting a wrong, it’s important to consider just how wrong it is, and whether it is, really speaking, your problem. If there is litter chocking the stream near your house, then there is something you can do. If atheists fill you with irrational rage, then maybe seeking out the places where atheists go on line in order to keep telling them what the afterlife is going to do to them, isn’t the best idea. There is a difference between tangible harm – being harassed, attacked, showered with chemical poisons from a factory, and taking offence at something someone else does. It’s that old if you don’t like thinking about what gay guys do, just don’t think about it, solution.

It gets tricky at this point because of course certain schools of thinking will understand certain kinds of behaviour as being dangerous and wrong. Someone less liberal than you may consider you dangerous. Part of the problem here is that fundamentalists of all hues (religious, atheist, scientific, political…) often have the belief that they are entitled or required to try and change you for your own good. If we could just let go of that notion of entitlement and requirement, we could solve a lot of problems. By all means, put your version out there, but if others reject it, you are not responsible for that. It is not your job to force it down the throats of the unwilling.

So where do we go with the people for whom climate change is a belief they don’t agree with, not an established fact? And if we say that the voice of sanity must prevail here, how do we handle it when the drug companies demand, claiming the voice of sanity, that all those quack medicines be taken off the market? (for which read herbal remedies and anything they aren’t getting paid for.) In my experience the majority of swords turn out to be double edged.

Sometimes, the answer is not to look outside and blame others for what causes us to feel angry, threatened or mistreated. Sometimes the answer was inside all along. Why should a straight person feel angry and threatened by gay marriage, for example? Work on the inside would be a better approach there for seeking peace. But the other side of the sword lops bits off us instead. If you are being bullied and you start to imagine that the problem is inside you (not an unusual reaction, I gather) then what you do is internalise the bullying, swallow the blame, and there is no hope for peace in that scenario, not without radical change.

True peace requires integrity and self awareness. It requires recognition as to whether the change needs to happen inside us, or outside. To find it, we have to be more interested in getting things right than merely appearing to be right. We have to be willing to change, to let go, to see with new eyes. We need compassionate thinking, both for ourselves and for others. That, I think, is the key. True peace is compassionate. If you are fighting for peace, if you are angry, what you get will not bring peace. Only compassion can do that, and in trying to find a right way through, compassion is your most reliable guide.