The word ‘God’ can be a stumbling block, partly because of the anthropomorphic image, cultivated over the centuries, of an aged man with a long white beard. The Arabic word ‘Abba’, which Jesus used, means both parents, mother and father, as well as the divine source of all being. Yet, even to refer to God as father and mother is to remain stuck in anthropomorphic imagery. Meister Eckhart wrote, ‘God is no thing.’ For myself, Hamlet’s use of the word Divinity (i.e. a force, an energy) is helpful, as when he says, ‘There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will.’ And the image that comes closest for me is St. Paul’s reference to God as ‘an ocean of Love … in which we live and move and have our being’.
Gustav Mahler wrote that ‘Tradition is the handing on of the flame, not the worship of ashes’. It is all too easy for spiritual teachings to become enshrined as part of an organisation with rules and regulations. It is often forgotten that Jesus said, ‘I have come to bring fire to earth and what will I but that it be spread!’ The simple practice of meditation is one important way in which we can keep that flame alive within us.
Harry Burton talks to James Roose-Evans about life in his 10th decade, about meditation, and a great deal besides.
There are times when, though we lower our bucket down into the well of meditation, the source seems to have dried up. What is the point of it all? we cry. And yet, unknown to use, there are many mountain springs deep down, so that, if we persevere, then our well begins to fill again.
It is the same in any marriage or committed relationship. The American author Madeleine L’Engle, writing in Two-Part Invention, observes:
The growth of love is not a straight line but a series of hills and valleys. I suspect that in every good marriage there are times when love seems to be over. Sometimes these desert lines are simply the only way to the next oasis. Most growth comes through times of trial.
And so it is with the practice of meditation.
Society can only be renewed by renewing individuals. And in order to do this we have to give individuals the opportunity to contact their own inner resources. As the psychotherapist Ira Progoff once observed:
We gradually discover that our life has been going somewhere, however blind we have been to its direction, and however unhelpful to it we ourselves have been. We find that a connective thread has been forming beneath the surface of our lives, carrying the meaning that has been trying to establish itself in our existence. It is the inner continuity of our lives. As we recognise and identify with it, we see an inner myth that has been guiding our lives unknown to ourselves.
Joyce Grenfell once said, ‘I think what I am doing is losing Joyce Grenfell and finding out the person God made me, as in the quotation, ‘become what you are’, in other words become what your true potential is, your spiritual wholeness.’
Carl Jung maintained that we each begin with a blueprint for life. Each one of us has an unique destiny. But what counts is how we relate to that destiny. It is like being given a hand of playing cards. Some are given a good hand, with all the aces, and yet end up throwing away their chances; while there are others who start off with a poor hand but, by playing skilfully, end up winning the game. We each have a destiny but we are not pre-destined. It is our task to work with our individual destiny and yet, at the same time, allow life to shape and make us, for there are surprises in every game and we have to learn how to improvise, how to remain open to the unexpected and to absorb it into the final blueprint. If we are to live our meaning, to sing our own song, tell our own tale, before we go hence, then we have to be prepared to go on a journey into the interior, in search of the riches that lie within each one of us.
Keep up your practice. The results do not happen fast; this is no instant realisation. And as you practise, you will become aware of a change of consciousness. Do not become attached to your method, for when your consciousness changes, you will recognise that all methods are intending the one goal.
In other words, persevere in practice but also be open to change.
The suicide rate for young people, especially men, has risen sharply in recent times. In addition to this there is a major problem which no Government has yet begun to consider seriously, namely that as technology takes over more and more jobs, increasingly people are going to be without meaningful occupation or purpose to their lives. And so there is an urgent need to find an inner centre which, all too often, our churches no longer provide. For some, if they can afford it, therapy can help, but even simpler is the practice of silent meditation which enables one to reach the centre of one’s being and to become more aware of how each of us is meant to live our lives. This is perhaps the greatest challenge of our times.
Today marks the publication of James’s latest book, Older.
“The moment I became 90 it seemed especially important to record the year of my entry into the tenth decade. What excites me is that the journey continues right up to the very last moment, for, as T S Eliot wrote, ‘Old men should be explorers still.’ It is a stage of life during which much is shed, and much unlearned so that new insights can be explored. It is a time when a whole mosaic of memories reveals the blueprint of the person we were meant to be and have become. It is also a time of harvest, knowing that when our time comes to depart, it is with the realisation that we are finally coming into harbour after a long voyage.”
In his ninety-first year, James Roose-Evans decided to do something wholly unconventional; compile a raw and honest diary with the intention of releasing it to the world.
Older: A Thought Diary is one of the few books on the market to encapsulate old age in such a frank manner, along with the challenges and gifts age brings, to help readers redefine how they view and approach the ageing process.
This touching diary reveals a year in the life of James Roose-Evans – the author. Older is a vivid and illuminating portrait of growing old.
This ‘thought diary’ was written through James Roose-Evans’s ninety-first year. The result is a cornucopia of delights that touches on everything from the profound to the minutiae of daily life.
Throughout Roose-Evans writes with wit, sensitivity and an eye for detail – and his reflections will teach us much about how we should approach the process of ageing.
The author comments “Sometimes people say to me ‘Oh I’m old’ and always I reply, ‘No, you are older’, which is a very different thing. The word ‘old’ with its final D is like a door slamming, whereas older suggest the possibility of further growth.
Tom Perrin, publisher of Zuleika Books writes:
“Older is a moving, touching and important book, and makes vital points about old age and living.’
Older: A Thought Diary is available from 2 October 2019: https://amzn.to/2RRosUJ
I have never forgotten the first time I saw Martha Graham dance her work Errand into Maze, in which we saw her enter the labyrinth, there to meet the Minotaur. At first she was too terrified to glance at it. Then came the moment when she turned and looked it full in the face and, overcoming her fear, mounted it and rode it triumphantly out of the maze. The Monster is, of course, the beast that is in each of us, what Jung referred to as our shadow side. Until we have come to terms with it – Jung referred to this as the individuation process – the monster within will seek to wreak havoc. I think this is what lies behind the story of St Francis of Assisi and the wolf of Gubbio which was killing local people and creating havoc. It strikes me as a marvellous illustration of the need to tame our own inner wolf, just as the story of St Francis of Assisi embracing the leper is another illustration of our having to have the courage to embrace our dark side and bring it under control, harnessing its energies.