Back in March I wrote about the acceptance speech of Karen Armstrong after she received her TED Prize. TED Prize winners are encouraged to make a 'prize wish', in which they detail their vision of how we can make our world a better place. Karen's prize wish was to see the creation of a Charter for Compassion in which leading members of all the world's major religions come together to recognise the common threads which underlie all their faiths.
If you know me well, you will be aware that I do not subscribe to any religion, yet Karen's message rings true for me too. In a world where fundamentalism, difference and conflict are on the rise, it is crucial that those of us who wish to promote acceptance and love of difference in the world take action to promote this. It is no good just sitting about tutting when the fearers and the haters are raising armies of destruction.
To some the idea of compassion may seem a little dull or boring, something they cannot relate to in our fast-paced, exciting and very self-centred Western culture. The word raises images of Mother Theresa toiling tirelessly to help people in desperate need. Many people cannot relate to the apparently massive level of altruism that she displayed.
But to me, this is something that raises a burningng passion inside me, not unlike that displayed by Bob Geldof during Live Aid. It is not at all unselfish and to show why, I will repeat some of what I said in my article in March.
My single overriding motivation is the protection of my daughters. I want them to grow up in a world where love is in the ascendancy. This is by no means certain in a volatile world in which resources are running out. We face a stark choice, between cooperation with our fellow humans to find new ways to sustain the species or bitter violent struggle over the dwindling resources we use now. There cannot be the cooperation without an understanding that we are all one. People need to stop thinking about stupid petty divisions such as nationality or religion, otherwise there will soon be no nationalities or religions because everyone will be dead.
Every one of us has to stand up and be counted. Stand up and say 'I choose love.' Then to do something. Whatever feels natural. To foster love and friendship with other members of our species. To show small minded people that there is another way, a better way. The only way in which we can survive.
Of course, not everyone can live a life of service like Mother Theresa. Not everyone has the influence of Bob Geldof or Bono. But we can all do something every day to help make it a better world. We can all choose to smile, to accept, to show kindness to the people we meet in everyday life. When we do this, there is a knock on effect. Those people who we touch are more likely to act in a positive, loving manner to the people that they meet. In that way, one smile or one compliment can create a wave of happiness that spreads across a nation. Likewise, a frown or an unkind word can do the same. Are you taking responsibility for the way you are treating the people you meet every day?
"Each time we stand up for an ideal, or act to improve the lot of others, or strike out against injustice, we send forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centres of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance." - Robert Kennedy (7 June, 1966)
Improving the lot of others does not have to mean giving away all your money or giving up your job to work in Africa. If we all committed to simple gestures of loving kindness on a daily basis, the world would be transformed and the fear which might otherwise lead us towards self-destruction can be relieved for good.
I went to Sainsbury's the other day. For those of you in The New World, it's one of UK's major supermarket chains.
When I went through the checkout, the cashier gave me a free fridge magnet which had on it the instruction "TAKE AN OLD BAG SHOPPING"
Now, I think it is commendable to encourage our citizens to think about others, and shopping can be very heavy, especially if you are enjoyng your golden years and live a long way from the store.
But surely they could have have used a more polite turn of phrase.
A few weeks ago I went for a picnic with the ever beautiful and serene Leigh to the Botanical Gardens here in Sheffield. For those of you who don't live here, it is a park in which trees and plants from all around the world have been brought. The myriad of shapes, colours and smells is very inspiring. This was a sunny day and unusually warm for the time of year. I was feeling very calm and almost in a meditative state. We walked around the gardens a little while before deciding on a place to have our lunch.
While Leigh was looking at some unusual trees, reading the labels which told what kind they were, I sat down on a bench and kept very still, drinking in the beauty that was before me. Suddenly a squirrel appeared and approached the bench where I was sitting. To my astonishment, the squirrel climbed up onto my thigh and sat there for few moments, looking me directly in the eye, before scurrying off. If that wasn't surprising enough, then another squirrel appeared and came up right in front of me. My hands were resting between my knees, my fingertips touching together. The squirrel reached up with his little paw and gently tapped my hands. He looked me in the eyes and then did it again. Then when he got no reaction from me, he too scurried off.
This was a remarkable experience. I am currently training hard to get better at running and my diet includes rather a lot of nuts. I wonder if the squirrels could sense that I was a kindred spirit in that respect, or maybe I just smelled of nuts. During the brief moments I was looking into the squirrels eyes, I felt a sudden sense of empathy for them, as if I got an inkling of what it was like to be a squirrel.
Sammy Squirrel: What are we going to do today, Sydney?
Sydney Squirrel: I thought I might charge round looking for nuts. What do you reckon?
Sammy Squirrel: Great idea! I love charging around looking for nuts. I think I will join you. Botanical Gardens?
Sydney Squirrel: Where else? Race you there.
Sammy Squirrel: You're on. Hey, hang on! That's not fair. False start!
Sydney Squirrel: Ha ha! Come on, slow coach!
A little later ...
Sammy Squirrel: So, how are you getting on, Sydney?
Sydney Squirrel: Not bad, not bad! This place is brilliant for nuts. But you can never really have enough can you?
Sammy Squirrel: You're right, Sammy. Here! Look at that!
Sydney Squirrel: Where?
Sammy Squirrel: Over there. Look. What is that?
Sydney Squirrel: Not sure. Doesn't look like any tree I've ever seen. Looks like one of those men if anything. But it isn't moving so it can't be.
Sammy Squirrel: Shall we check it out?
Sydney Squirrel: You go first.
Sammy Squirrel: OK. Cover me.
A few moments later ...
Sydney Squirrel: Well?
Sammy Squirrel: I'm not sure. I'm sure there are nuts there somewhere. I can sense nuts! If I didn't know better, I would swear it looked at me.
Sydney Squirrel: Hold on, I'll check it out.
Shortly afterwards ...
Sydney Squirrel: Weird! You're right, there's definitely something strange about that tree.
Sammy Squirrel: Sydney, Sydney! Look at the bushy tail on that!
November 5th is celebrated in Britain as Bonfire Night, or to give it its more correct name, Guy Fawkes Night. Firework displays and big bonfires will be seen throughout the land. This is a celebration of the foiling of the notorious Gunpowder Plot, in which a band of Catholic villains, including the very unfortunate Guy Fawkes, are alleged to have tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament with gunpowder and to kill King James I, his family and a large number of other aristocrats.
Some historians have speculated that the whole thing may have actually been staged by, or at least secretly allowed to progress by certain government agents, in particular Robert Cecil, the Earl of Salisbury. Conspiracy theorists suggest that Cecil may have fabricated the plot as an excuse for the persecution of Catholics in a land which was officially Protestant under King James (hence the production of the English King James Bible). These conspiracy theories strongly parallel those which are around today regarding recent terrorist attacks such as 9/11 and the London bombings. The Web is awash with those who would have us believe that these were staged by our respective governments as an excuse for a withdrawal of civil liberties. It also mirrors the Burning of the Reichstag in 1933 Germany which was blamed on Communists and precipitated Hitler's rise to dictatorial power.
Whether you believe the conspiracy theorists or not, you cannot deny the fact that nobody does a celebration of religious intolerance and hatred like us Brits. For over 400 years now we have been encouraging small children to make an effigy of the filthy Catholic scum and then chuck it on a massive fire. Then a crowd of smiling, sparkler waving onlookers smile and cheer at the reminder that those people who don't believe quite the same things as us will be dealt with by appropriate hideously cruel punishment.
Can any other country top 400 years? Or is it just that we can't muster virulent hatred quite as well as we did in the old days so that now such celebrations tend to peter out after 150 years or so?
In order to bring back some proper fervent hatred, I think it is about time the secret services of our nations upped their game a bit and used a scape-goat we can all get behind detesting. Amusing as some of their beliefs and antics are, I can't really bring myself to hate entire religious or political groups, even if a handful of them have been very naughty indeed. What I suggest is that perhaps MI5 could, under the guise of a sinister Spectre-style organisation, secretly recruit a number of easily seduced wasps and encourage them to formulate a dastardly plot against Princes William and Harry. Not the Queen, nobody really likes her. But there is still plenty of affection for Di's pretty kids. Then MI5 could expose the plot at the last minute and then the Daily Mail and Sun newspapers could spend a month or so banging on about the evils of wasps, prompting a national crackdown which could rid us of these pesky menaces for good. Obviously they would have to do all this when they were not busy advising the makers of Spooks. Once we have dealt with wasps, they could wait ten years or so and then frame The Tweenies.
Then maybe, just maybe, I would consider my taxes well spent.
When he finally regained his composure after the shock of Saoirse's sudden departure, Walter picked himself up and looked out over the countryside. The view from the ledge was breathtaking, yet this was the first time he had noticed it. While Saoirse had been there, all his senses had been focused on her. Now they were open to receiving magnificence and beauty. The myriad of colours and shapes presented by the rolling landscape touched him like they had never done before. Many times had someone said to Walter, 'What a beautiful view!' At such times he would mutter agreement but had never been able to muster the enthusiasm that the tone of his companions' voices revealed. This time he really got it and he stood for a few moments silently drinking in the splendour. He caught himself humming 'Top of the World' by the Carpenters, a song that only a year ago he would have cynically mocked as soppy nonsense.
After a few moments Walter breathed in sharply, breaking the trance that he had entered without knowing and he turned and headed back down the spiral staircase to the Leprechauns' cavern. The going was much easier on the way down and he soon reached the cavern, following the wall until he once again found himself at Magic Dara's. He was struck by the fact that he could not hear any of the revelry which he knew to be going on inside until he opened the door and stepped over the threshold. When he did so, it was like being suddenly hit by a wall of music and laughter.
Through the throng he picked out Seamus who was sitting at a large table with a small crowd of people gathered round him listening intently. Walter was quite familiar with this sight. Many times he had witnessed Seamus spin one of his enchanting yarns. He knew not to interrupt his flow and so he pushed his way through to the bar where Dara greeted him with a friendly and knowing smile.
"You feeling better now, Walter?" Dara asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes I am. Thank you. I really mean that. Thank you." Walter replied.
"You're welcome, my friend. That is what I am here for. Well, amongst other things." Dara graciously accepted. "Can I get you a drink?"
"Umm. Yeh. I'll have a Guinness," Walter answered. Before he could blink, Dara had placed a Guinness in front of him and when Walter offered to pay, he waved his hand in dismissal. "This one's on the house," said Dara. "Just so long as you promise to give us a song."
"Ah, I don't know, it's been quite a while since I've been in front of a crowd. I'm not sure whether I am ready for it," Walter said. As he spoke the words, he became suddenly aware how they seemed to puncture the bubble of freedom, peace and elation that had surrounded him since he last spoke with Dara. Dara looked Walter straight in the eye, managing to repeat his question simply by raising his left eyebrow a couple of millimeters. Out of Dara's sight, Walter made a fist with his right hand and then said, "What am I saying? Of course I will give you a song. I am Walter the Sofa Elf. I was born to entertain." Dara's questioning look turned back to a warm smile. He nodded to his assistant who went over to where the band were playing and whispered in the ear of the bodhran player. As he did so, a chorus of laughter rose from the group who were gathered around Seamus' table, indicating that he had reached the end of another ripping yarn. Walter took the opportunity to go over and talk to his cousin before he started another one.
"Ah, Walt! Oi wondered where you'd got to," Seamus said as he saw Walter approaching.
"Have you seen Saoirse anywhere?" Walter immediately asked.
"Oh, dat's where you've been is it?" Seamus said with a hint of laughter in his voice. Walter suddenly remembered the kiss that Saoirse had given Seamus when they first arrived at the pub.
"Oh, listen, sorry mate, I didn't think. If I've overstepped the mark .... " Walter said apologetically.
"Aaah, don't you worry 'bout dat, Walter. Saoirse belongs to no man. Jaysus. The chance'd be a foine ting. Saoirse does what Saoirse wants to do. Sure, Oi've been lucky enough to share her company from toime to toime. But if today she's chosen you, Walt, den good luck to you cuz. Don't get me wrong, moind. Dat doesn't mean she is easy. Far from it. De feller who manages to tame dat one will be a lucky feller indeed."
As he finished speaking, Dara's voice came over the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is now my pleasure to introduce a special guest from over the water. The cousin of our fine friend Seamus, and a big hit in his home town of Sheffield, England, please welcome to the mic Walter the Sofa Elf." Polite but uncertain applause was suddenly interrupted by a drunken heckle from the back of the room.
"Asking an elf from England to sing! Moight as well ask a mouse to keep an oye on yer cheese," the heckler said.
"Yeh, or ask your barber to give us a hair cut. Shut up, Sean O'Gill," Dara put the heckler in his place and raised a laugh from the rest of the crowd, then he stepped aside and beckoned Walter up onto the stage. Walter sprang out of his seat and bounded up to the microphone. He took his position and quietly said something to the members of the band. He was so clearly in his element now, vibrant and confident in his movement and expression. His presence commanded the room to fall silent. He started the first few bars of Happy Cow. The band quickly picked up the melody and began to accompany him with brilliant ease. The end of the song was greeted with a loud cheer from the crowd and many calls for more. Walter turned to the band and they began to play the song again, only this time they raised the tempo. Walter began his reprise and the floor began to fill with dancers. The pub door opened and in came Saoirse. From his new vantage point, Walter was suddenly aware of the number of heads that turned as she glided across the room to once again mesmerise Walter with her dancing. With every turn of her body she looked deep into Walter's eyes and gave him a captivating smile.
When he finished the Happy Cow remix, the band invited Walter to stay with them as they continued their set of Irish classics. Walter knew the words to many of these after many nights out with Seamus over the years and he revelled in providing very popular backing vocals. But at the same time he was longing for the band to take a break so that he could go and talk to Saoirse once more. Eventually they took a well earned rest, giving a warm thank you to Walter which was echoed by the onlookers. With his eyes fixed on Saoirse, Walter stepped away from the stage. He was high with the adrenaline of performing and bounded over to where she was patiently waiting for him.
"Look at you!" Saoirse enthused as Walter got close enough to hear her over the clamour. "Dat was brilliant, Walt, and you look so aloive. Beautiful!"
"Oh, cheers," Walter said, beaming. "It's been quite some time. I LOVE that. I'd forgotten just how good it feels."
"Oi can see dat, Walt. Does the feeling remoind you of anyting?"
"How do you mean?" asked Walter, unsure of what she was getting at.
"The enthusiasm in your voice remoinds me of when you were talking to me just a few hours ago - when you were talking to me about Tallina." Walter stopped and silently contemplated what she had said. "You told me you love her and just now you told me you love the singing. I wonder what it is dat makes you feel dat way. What is it dat's different about you at dose toimes?" Walter still wasn't ready to give any kind of answer. "Shall I tell you what I tink?" asked Saoirse.
"When Oi watched you on the stage just now, for the first toime Oi saw a Walter who was completely relaxed and at ease. Oi don't tink it's a coincidence that you speak of love when you recall experiencing dat. Now think about your toimes with Tallina. What was different about dat? Oi hear you were pretty popular with de ladies before you met her? So what was different? Why was it love with her?" Saoirse then remained silent for a few moments allowing Walter to contemplate what she had said. Eventually Walter spoke.
"Because with her there was no pretense. With her I could just be myself. Sure I have had plenty of girls in my time but I was always putting on a show. They usually liked me because of the singing and I played up to that image, putting on the bravado even when I didn't feel like it both for them and to maintain my image. With Tallina it was different. With her I could just relax. I could just let go. It was wonderfully effortless. I loved her and I just didn't care who knew about it. In fact, I probably annoyed he hell out of folks by going round telling them."
"Ha ha!" Saoirse laughed at Walter's last little confession. "Maybe you can see now Walter that it was the change in you that brought you love. I have no doubt that Tallina is a lovely girl, but you love her for the same reason that you love singing. You love her because for once you let go and allowed yourself to love without fear. In all aspects of life, Walt, that moment you let go will be the moment you find love."
If Walter had heard this from someone else, he may well have questioned what they were saying. But Saoirse embodied what she was saying with her every breath, movement and action and because of this her words carried great weight. Tears of realisation and relief ran down Walter's cheeks as once again he chose to let go.
