Blog – James Roose-Evans

Not knowing

I want to quote the following from Thomas Merton which underlines what the last two blogs have been about:

Lord God, I have no idea where I am going, and I do not know the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself … but I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you … I hope I will never do anything apart from that desire … Therefore I will trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Many people believe that at death, when we shed our physical body, the spirit is then freed to travel on. In other words, the journey continues, but now into worlds of unimaginable beauty, wisdom and wonder. Although we have no scientific proof of this, deep down, for myself, at the level of intuition, I have no doubts that this is so, which is why I have no fear of dying. Once, years ago, some words came to me in a meditation – which I had calligraphed by John Rowlands Pritchard and which hang on a wall in my bedroom: ‘God is an endless journey.’

As in nature

Just as in nature a plant grows, withers, seems to die, and is reborn … so Nature teaches us to wait patiently, knowing that Spring is always on its way.

Another year

I don’t know if the phrase ‘school of life’ is still used these days, but it suggests that our life is made up of a series of lessons and that, hopefully, at the end we may pass the examination! The simple practice of meditation enables us, when we hit a major setback, not to despair, but rather to ask what we have to learn from this experience.

The ending of the year

In former times it was customary to light a candle in the window as a signal to any passer-by that in that house there was a welcome. We, too, can mark the winter solstice and the return of light by choosing a few friends, or even strangers, with whom to reflect on the past year and what lies ahead, seated around a candle, perhaps sharing drink and a little food, then a quiet silence of reflection by everyone present.

Being there

One of the fruits of meditating is a greater tolerance of others. It sometimes happens, even with close friends, that one of them will suddenly turn on us, or seem to reject us. It is then all too easy to withdraw and break off the relationship – unless we learn to recognise that our friend is nearly always projecting onto us some problem of their own. All we need to do is bide our time, keeping the relationship open. As a former Abbess of Stanbrook Abbey once wrote, ‘What a mystery is friendship. Some we have to carry, while others carry us.’ This is what Jesus meant by inviting us to love our neighbour as ourself. We are all journeying men and women and need to be there for one another.

Through the looking glass

When we look in a mirror we become aware of the many changes made by age. But when Alice in Lewis Carroll’s story looks in the mirror she sees another world into which she enters. And so it is through the simple practice of meditation that we cease being self-preoccupied and discover another and richer world within ourselves. We also begin to see others as themselves and not as projections of ourself!

The Power of Now

The Power of Now is the title of a best-selling book by Eckhart Tolle: it has been read by millions. Another and earlier master of the art of life is Montaigne who urged his readers to withdraw to an inner room and respond to every moment. We should not dwell on our eventual demise but live fully and richly each instant of our lives. We must respond fully to each and every moment.

Baking

The repetition of our mantra works like yeast on the rest of our system. One day we shall emerge from the oven like a fully-baked loaf, a half-baked loaf or even, sadly, a loaf that hasn’t risen at all! It is a matter of patience and allowing time for the mixture to rise. Baking cannot be hurried.

Reflections on ageing

I have already mentioned my friend Anne Powell whom I visited daily when she was dying. It was during her 95^th year that I used to drive to Great Oak at Earlsfield in Herefordshire to visit her in the cottage where she lived, alone and housebound. On one occasion she said to me, ‘I wish I could do something. I feel so helpless.’ I replied, ‘Anne, you don’t have to do anything. You are! It is a privilege just to be here with you.’

If we have lived a full life then old age is about learning to let go, to shed. We need to simplify our lives at this stage so that, in the words of Teilhard de Chardin, ‘in the process of emptying we allow God to fill our lives’. The practice of meditation is an excellent preparation for this phase of one’s life. I write this as one now in his mid-nineties.

Category: Blog