TABLES TURNED

This is a tribute to my brother Mike who has been struggling to like himself recently. I hope he gets to read it soon.

I remember it so very clearly. I will have been about 11 years old. I was trying to do my maths homework. We were learning some simple algebra and being asked to plot some graphs from simple equations. That night I was struggling to understand it, not something my little ego was used to and I got more and more upset the harder I tried. My mother tried to explain it to me, but I was too frustrated about not getting it to take in her explanations and eventually she gave up, exasperated. She left me in my room where I continued to cry with frustration.

A few minutes later my brother Mike came into my room and sat quietly in the chair which was across the room from the bed on which I had assumed the foetal position to comfort myself. Mike is several years older than me, so to me he was a young adult at that time. He did not say anything at all for a few minutes. He just sat. I could feel his love for me without him having to do anything. I knew that I wasn't being judged at all. He just sat and waited. Soon the calm presence he brought into the room soothed my troubled mind and peace and clarity began to return.

"All right?" he asked in a simple tone, putting me even more at ease. I began to explain what was upsetting me. Michael sat quietly and listened, occasionally looking into my eyes and smiling. He picked up my maths homework book and looked at the problems I had been set.

"I used to find this hard too," he said. "I remember crying just like you."

Mike then spent half an hour very patiently explaining to me how to do my homework. At the end of that time, not only did I understand my homework, but he had taught me how to do simultaneous equations, a full two years before it was on the curriculum at school. My teacher was astonished by my understanding at the next class.

Many times similar situations arose, and many times the total unconditional love, generosity and complete non-judgement that Mike embodied helped me through. A true quiet hero, never asking for anything in return, even when we were much older and I too was a young adult.

The troubles of the world often weigh heavy on those with strong compassion. They want to help everyone and of course they can't. They want to make a difference and don't realise what a difference they have already made just by being who they are. For once I now find myself in the position of the listener and those words ring out in my head loud and clear:

"I used to find this hard too," he said. "I remember crying just like you."

Today I look and see a man who has temporarily forgotten what it is that makes him a hero in the eyes of me and I am sure many others. The fantastic humility and patience, the ceaseless generosity and unconditional love. Never asking for anything in return, never seeking praise for his actions, just quietly lifting us up whenever we needed it, then going about his business as if nothing happened. What made it so easy for me to talk to Mike was that I knew I was never being judged. Not once, not ever.

Sometimes it is hard to block out the endless false messages which we are bombarded with day after day in the form of television, newspapers, advertising, religion and political propaganda. Those are all about judgement. Sickening judgement which destroys people's self-esteem, shamelessly luring them away from the way to true happiness. You are worthless unless you think this, do this, buy this, look like this, earn this much or believe this. You can't be happy until you achieve this, can afford this, have a house this big or have a relationship this perfect.

The hero that is my brother knew at a very young age that this was all bollocks. He knew where true self-worth came from and he knew how to effortlessly bring it out in other people too. As we all do from time to time, Mike has temporarily lost his way. Some judgement has crept into his thinking. Most significantly of all, much of that judgement is directed at himself.

I want so much to be able to tell Mike what a great impact it had when he sat silently across the room from me that night. The peace it brought, the understanding that I was loved no matter what I said, did or felt. I want so much for him to sit silently across the room from himself and give to himself the complete acceptance and the space to grow that he gave to me so many times as a kid and young adult.