Tag: love

The Funeral

I have just been to a funeral of a man I barely knew. Strange, you might think. But not so strange since we were neighbours.

I knew his wife better than I knew him. His wife, who is now without a husband. A woman who had been married for forty years, who didn’t expect to be a widow so early, if at all. You see, her husband was only sixty-five.

She knew the boy at school, the fifteen-year-old, I found out at the funeral. They weren’t ‘an item’ until they were twenty-five, she said. He was her ‘soul mate,’ her best friend, the father of their four children, and the Nonno to their six grandchildren. Sadly, the unborn seventh, will have missed meeting this grandfather.

I saw a lot of love at the funeral. I saw it in those downturned mouths, those tears of grown men, those stooped shoulders. I could hear it in the broken voices, the sniffs, the silences. I listened to the stories told by brothers and sisters, daughters and sons, the mother-in-law, the bereaved widow, and I could feel the respect. Words like ‘legend’ and ‘unique’ were used. Nicknames like ‘Dancing Dennis,’ and ‘The Don’ were bandied about. He sounded like a character, a fun guy, a stirrer, an accepting and encouraging father, a handyman, a genuinely good guy.

I wish I’d known him better.

He was diagnosed with a nasty cancer less than a year ago. The last two weeks were bad. He insisted on coming home for Christmas, to ‘the best palliative care he could get.’ He shared Christmas Day with all his family. And then he went to bed and left.

There is no doubt in my mind that this man left then because it was kinder to his family. Only today I found out that his family was the most important thing in the world to him, that he was selfless, that he would do anything for them.

Observing the large family today, I believe it.

His wife, in closing, said, ‘Life will go on, as it must. But it will never be the same.’

People like this man make the world a better place. He was here, he did his best, he left a legacy. He left good people in his wake. People who will also go on to live good lives, inspired to do their best, and make their own way.

Last week, this man had two requests: I want bright colours at my funeral. I want people to be happy for the good life I had. What a great attitude.

I went to the funeral out of respect for the grieving wife. As a neighbour. As a member of the community. As a potential friend. At funerals, we hear people’s stories. We get to know people better – the deceased and those who loved them. By knowing some of his story, I now know some of hers. Perhaps in this way I can help. It might be that chat while holding the hose on the garden. Or that drink on the veranda at sundown. It might simply be the knowledge that a neighbour cares.

By going to the funeral, I have reached out a hand. By doing so, my own life has more meaning.

Respect

Respect has been on my mind a lot lately.

On a personal level, I’ve had cause to respect the efforts of someone close to me, their reaching out with an olive branch, offering peace and a positive future. Also personal, I’ve been scuba diving again, something I do to enhance my self-respect (through effort, learning and courage) and appreciation of the natural world. The reward on a recent trip was to be surrounded by inquisitive and playful seals and inspected by grey nurse sharks, both creatures I have utter respect for and who seemed to respect me.

On a broader level, I have felt respect for the forces of nature, the altruistic actions of those who help despite cost to themselves, those who take a stand when rights are threatened, and for a leader on the opposite side of the world who has remained strong and calm and forceful despite the horrors of war.

So, what is respect?

For the purpose of this blog post, the relevant meaning is a sense of the worth of something: a person, a living thing, a place, an institution, a culture, an inanimate thing.

It is due regard for people’s feelings, wishes, or rights.

It is a recognition of value in someone or something and a demonstration of that.

Of foremost importance is respect for ourselves. We need to care for our own wellbeing, value our own worth, and appreciate our own thoughts and inclinations before expecting respect from others. How can we expect others to value us if we don’t value ourselves? How would we know when we were being disrespected? How would we even know what to respect in others if we didn’t understand and value our own minds, if we didn’t respect our own actions?

Having self-respect guides our morals and gives us strength, enabling us to respect others thoughtfully. Equally, it enables us to remove ourselves when there is no respect coming our way.

Respect is a primary foundation for our physical and mental health, the health of our relationships, and the health of our planet. Without respect, people become destroyers of themselves, others, their relationships, and the environment.

It is good practice to show respect first, to assume other people and places are worthy, and of value. Doing no harm, being polite, actively listening, and being helpful are all good ways to show respect.

I believe respect is imperative in any loving relationship. Feeling and showing respect for a partner, a friend, a child or parent, and requiring respect in return, makes for a healthy relationship.

Once respect is lost in a relationship, unless it can be rebuilt, it is doomed. If someone’s attitudes or actions cause us to think they are unworthy of our regard, the relationship is no longer viable.

I believe respect for the natural world is imperative in saving the planet. Our lack of regard for it has damaged it severely. Learning about it, treating it as important, understanding how we fit within it, immersing ourselves in it, getting our feet wet and our hands dirty, and therefore discovering its worth, is the only way to salvage it.

Finally, showing respect for things we don’t fully understand, for the differences between people, cultures and attitudes, for each other as a general rule and not just on special days, will surely help us get along better, repair what we have broken, and enhance our enjoyment of the world.

I’d like to suggest we keep RESPECT forefront of our minds.

How would that feel for you?

‘Respect yourself enough to walk away from anything that no longer serves you, grows you or makes you happy.’ Robert Tew (American writer)

‘There is no respect for others without humility in one’s self.’ Henri Frederic Amiel (Swiss writer and philosopher)

‘If you have some respect for people as they are, you can be more effective in helping them to become better than they are.’ John W. Gardner (American novelist and poet)

‘You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him.’ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (German writer, scientist and statesman)

Forgiveness: Letting Go

Forgiveness is a gift that we bestow upon ourselves.

This concept, for me, was the first step towards understanding how essential forgiveness is for a happy life.

Originally, I thought forgiveness just meant excusing or pardoning an offender and argued that some acts could be forgiven, and some could not.

I knew that people forgave on grounds of religious beliefs, or compassion, or in order to put some horrible thing behind them without necessarily delving in too deeply.

I knew that self-forgiveness was important in order to accept our own shortcomings and mistakes, to enable us to live without debilitating self-criticism or guilt.

I knew that forgiveness was more effective in rehabilitation than punishment.

None of these ideas were complicated. And none of them went deep enough.

Discussing forgiveness with my friends, I realised there was so much more to it. Opinions and feelings varied, as did the experienced circumstances.

But a common reason for forgiveness amongst those with the most cause to be offended, was to dispel their own pain.

What I had neglected to consider was that other component of forgiveness: ceasing to feel resentment.

Ceasing to feel resentment is a choice made entirely by the person who is hurt and is nothing to do with the perpetrator. Releasing the negative feelings enables us to realise that our minds are not determined by external circumstances, that no matter what anybody does, we are free to choose our emotions.

Consider what it feels like to be resentful; it is unpleasant and makes us sad and angry. Isn’t it better to feel pleasant, peaceful, and calm? Why keep a thought that is hurting us?

Harbouring resentment is detrimental to our lives. It creates emotional conflict and even health issues, affecting our minds and bodies, causing digestive issues, skin conditions, and more. It is like taking poison and hoping that the other person dies.

To forgive does not mean overlooking the offense and pretending it never happened. Forgiveness means releasing our rage and our need to retaliate, no longer dwelling on the offense, the offender, and the suffering, and rising to a higher, more pleasant state. It is an act of letting go so that we ourselves can go on. Sue Monk Kidd.

Forgiveness is not only important for major offences. On a day-to-day level, forgiveness enables us to live a more peaceful and pleasant life. Forgiving road rage, rudeness and lack of consideration, frees us from anger and an agitated state of mind.

Letting go of hurts in a loving relationship, enables us to maintain a peaceful state. Forgiveness opens us up to understanding, and therefore, to loving more deeply. It is the foundation of a deep, meaningful relationship.

Siblings, or children and parents, or best friends, or couples, sometimes don’t speak to each other for years, over some perceived or real offense. They miss out on opportunities to be supported, to be included, to be joyful and to be loved, and often regret it, wondering too late, how they could have been so stubborn.

Other times we might need to say sorry, even if we are not the ones in the wrong. Saying sorry means that we value the person and the relationship more than being right.

A friend, Chris Brown, made a speech at his daughter’s wedding. Tears came to my eyes as I listened. It was one of the most loving, touching pieces of advice I have ever heard:

Think about what is strong in the marriage, not what is wrong.

The first to apologise is the bravest.

The first to forgive is the strongest.

The first to forget is the happiest.

A happy marriage is the union of two good forgivers and forgetters.

There is no healing without forgiveness. We cannot be happy in a resentful state. To have a pleasant life, to be in control of our minds and emotions, to grow spiritually, to be our best selves, we need to forgive.

Forgiveness is a most valuable gift. And each of us has the power to bestow it; to others and to ourselves.

Spiritual teachers all talk about forgiveness. Here are a few worth listening to:

Forgiveness gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness.  Thich Nhat Hanh.

Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on.  Eckhart Tolle.

To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.             Lewis Smedes.

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.             Mahatma Gandhi.

Relationships don’t thrive because the guilty are punished but because the wounded are merciful. Max Lucado.                                     

3 Life Lessons on Forgiveness When Feeling Hurt | Lessons from Bhagavad Gita

Sadhguru – How to Forgive Someone Who Hurt You [ An Insight on Forgiveness ]

The Importance of Forgiveness | Eckhart Teachings

May Tolerance and Humanity Win

The act of one maniac in New Zealand last week has caused life-long devastation to so many people. Whether it be a terrorism attack, hate-crime or act of insanity, is irrelevant to those directly affected. The only good that is coming out of it is how people all over the world are banding together in love for one another. We are all human and therefore, essentially the same, no matter what our beliefs, culture or traditions. Maybe this tragic incident will have a ripple effect amongst different groups, revealing that people can overcome differences and be tolerant of one another.

It is ironic that I was busy blogging about my own shortcomings of tolerance (nothing to do with racism) when my friends started messaging about the violent act in New Zealand. I was unaware!

I have nothing more to say other than my heart goes out to those directly affected, and the world in general if you believe that this was an act of terrorism. I believe that it was more an act of one (or more sociopaths) that insanely think they’re more important than others.

I would like to share a story of my visit to Kolkata where I was pleased to see how different religions and people from various backgrounds, can get on so well together in a close community. I believe Australia and New Zealand are very much the same.

I did a walk through an area called the grey area, the area between the white area (the British Colonials) and the black area (Indian nationals but more specifically, locals) at the time of British rule. I didn’t name these areas. That is what they were called (and still referred to in an historic discussion).

The area has a great Chinatown and mixed European influence, as well as Indian influence from areas outside West Bengal. The point is, these descendants still live and work here. They love it, and my guide, Manjit, a professional and world-renowned photographer, is there to prove it. He is a Sikh and therefore his family came originally from Punjab. He is passionate about the area and does these walking tours to show it off to tourists. (See www.calcuttaphototours.com and Instagram)

The religions that I saw on display, side by side, were Christianity, Buddhism, Judaism, Muslim and Sikhism (and of course, Hinduism which is never far away in India).

There is a beautiful Synagogue, called Maghen David, which was built in 1884 on the site of the old synagogue. Unfortunately, the remaining Jews are too few to have a rabbi. So, guess who looks after this beautiful building, on a voluntary basis – cleaning it, maintaining it, and showing people like me through it? The Muslim community!

We are all the children of the Universe or earth or God or just other humans! Whatever we believe, we’re all the same makeup. Don’t let us forget that and allow learned differences to interfere with how we get along! Let’s hope that the tragedy in New Zealand might cause a butterfly effect for good.

Peace and Amen.

 

New Year Fireworks and Goals

The new year has begun. 2019. It started with the explosion of fireworks, live and on the TV, the abrupt bangs and crackles heard over the low roar and whoosh of the sea, cheering voices and music. The windows were wide open, letting the heat out and the cool breeze in, and the sounds were indistinguishable, the reality from recorded.

New Year’s Eve was a quiet one for me and I couldn’t have been more content. Sharing Australian prawns, Sydney rock oysters and French champagne with an old friend. Cooking up a Thai chicken curry and eating alfresco, glad that the humidity had been washed away by the rain shower. Walking a breezy kilometre along the cliff to the park that overlooks Coogee Beach and the headland.

The fireworks at 9pm attracted families, locals and holiday-makers. The crowd was cheerful and festive. Kids had glow-sticks, parents had picnic blankets, cheeky people had sneaky drinks. Brave dogs paced next to their families, as excited as their humans. The fireworks were varied, colourful and constant for twenty minutes. Everyone seemed happy. (Presumably, those who don’t like fireworks or crowds and those whose animals are frightened, stay at home.) Fireworks were followed by a walk along the promenade and giant serves of salted caramel and double chocolate ice creams in a cone.

The simplicity and ease of the evening, along with friendship, community vibe and foodie indulgence, were what brought on the feeling of contentment. I was in a happy place. And it was the close of a big year. 2018 had its challenges: ongoing divorce proceedings, the death of my beloved chocolate Labrador, and breast cancer. But there were also many wonderful things: the road trip up the north coast to Lennox Head, the writing workshop with author, Fiona McIntosh, in SA, another road trip in Donegal, Ireland, doing research for my novel, and the completion of the first draft. All the while I had the support of caring, loving family and friends. All that deserved fireworks, and my gratitude!

So, to my goals for 2019: take better care of my body, feeding it champagne and ice cream in fewer doses; finish a polished manuscript, one good enough to present to a publisher; write every day and continue this weekly blog; maintain and enhance my relationships and give back to those who love me; have fun travelling; move house; find another dog to love; be kind, to myself as well as to others.

Considering I have a good chance of achieving my goals, I figure I have a lot to be content with. I wish you all good health, good fortune, and good goals to go after. Have a happy 2019.

 

Thanks to Randwick City Council https://www.randwick.nsw.gov.au/community/whats-on/coogee-sparkles and my own many blessings.

 

A Final Act as Master

It’s nine months since I made and enacted my last decision as master. Those of us that love dogs say our dogs are our fur-babies or our dog’s human, as if they’re our equal, but they’re not. If you’re like me, you treat your dog as your companion, a cherished member of the family or your favourite living creature on earth, but your dog is still not your equal. They’re nearer to being a dependent child or reliant best friend. As its owner, you are fully responsible for your dog’s happiness: its comfort, its health, its exercise, its mental well-being and its love. You are responsible for its life – and its death.

I took Chopper, my last dog, the handsome, seal-eyed, chocolate Labrador, to the vet on the afternoon of 20th March this year. I say my dog because that’s the way I felt, although I know that he had a family, my family. His two fur-brothers accompanied us. It had been a hard decision to make; harder than I knew. You see, I understood that he was suffering, and I gave him lots of drugs to ease his pain. I modified our walks and hugged him as I lay next to him on the floor. But I still thought he was happy. He always seemed eager to go out, lifting his head attentively and wagging his tail when I asked, ‘Do you want to go out?’ His eyes followed me around a room. He sat on my feet when I was still. But some days he could barely go out to wee. He could barely get up. Or he’d throw up.

My sons helped as much as they could and one day, as I broached the subject of the imminent end, they said things that indicated they already knew and they were waiting for me to accept it. I suggested we wait another week, until after the Easter break, so that Chopper and I could have quality time together in our holiday house down the south coast, a place he loved. ‘He’s still happy,’ I said, ‘so it makes it that much harder.’

Then one son said, ‘He’s not happy, he’s only happy when you’re with him.’ I was shocked. I asked the other son what he thought, and he said, ‘It’s not a dog’s life!’ I suddenly felt so sad. And selfish. My desire to keep him by my side had affected my judgement and my reality.

My sons carried him outside for his pre-bed wee, a time, not long before, we cherished as an end of day ritual: fifteen minutes walking, out in the darkness and quiet, Chopper sniffing all the night-time scents and me looking up to the moon and stars. He sat there. He couldn’t even get up to wee. I hugged him and cried. I buried my face in his furry neck and said I was sorry. I was so afraid to lose him, to no longer have the comfort of him, to be on my own.

I’d been his master for over eleven and a half years. He’d been my companion, pal and confidante. I rarely walked him on a lead. I rarely roused on him. He’d joined in the fun of the family, guarded us and looked after the emotional needs of each of us. He’d chased remote-control monster trucks, swum in the sea, supervised barbecues, romanced other dogs (putting it politely), played chasings and tug-of-war.

 

 

He’d travelled with me in a motorhome, never tiring of exploring, resting by a lake or meeting other nomads. He’d consoled me when I was sad, willed me off the lounge at night, and wagged his tail every time we made eye contact. He lay on my feet when I was writing. He didn’t feel like my equal; he felt like a soul-mate.

And for my soul-mate, I had to put his needs before my own. I had to do what I could do as his human and ultimately, his master. I could give him peace.

And nine months later, I can tell you about it.

Dec 15 (53) - Copy

 

Face Work

Would we love our friends more if their faces were less wrinkled, less spotted and less saggy? Would we love them more if they were ‘prettier’ or their eyebrows were higher? Would we love them more if their lips permanently pouted?

Of course not!

Loving our friends has nothing to do with how well their face defies age. It has everything to do with who they are, how they think and what their values are. We like someone when we share interests or they excite us with new ones. We like them because of how they behave, what they do and what they say. Their attention, conversation and empathy are what’s going to make us think, what a great friend, I love this friend!

Not how they look!

It’s the same the other way around. Our friends aren’t going to love us more if we have a firm, plump face. And they aren’t going to love us less for gathering grooves and sagging.

Grooming is different. Grooming is about personality. Grooming is superficial, and I don’t mean that in a derogatory sense. I mean it’s an outer layer that we can don or discard, according to how we want to present ourselves. We tend to hang around people who groom a similar way. We judge people by how they look, and that’s okay if it’s just the grooming we’re judging. It’s human nature to assess if someone is like us or not.

Some people don’t care what they look like. Some care a lot. (Some people have no choice in the matter, but they’re not who I’m talking about.) But what we wear, how we do our hair or how we decorate our faces, is just a temporary effect. It is a choice made for effect.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand the desire to stay looking younger and ‘prettier.’ In my forties, I had Botox because I was worried about my frown and drooping eyes. I didn’t like the signs of aging. But then I realised that most of my friends weren’t having Botox. They were aging naturally, and I loved them just as much. My son used to make faces at me when I laughed because he knew my face well enough to observe the distortion in my face. He loved me well enough to let me know he preferred the natural look.

I’ve noticed that it’s hard for people to stop doing ‘work’ on their faces once they start. I know that Botox leads to collagen. All that paralysing, lifting and plumping needs to continue to keep up with the aging process. And it doesn’t keep up! It twists and pulls out of shape. It leads to a false, weird look. If our friends were doing this, we’d want them to stop. We’d want our friends to stop us!

Changing our skin through use of a needle or knife reveals an insecurity. And a belief that people will love us more if we look ‘better’. My argument is that that can’t be so, that they don’t love us in the first place if they are so affected by how young or attractive we look.

We love our friends because of what’s on the inside. So lets pay more attention to that. Let’s keep our minds, our hearts and our bodies healthy. Keep learning, be curious and be interested. Be kind, compassionate and thoughtful. Eat well and be active to keep fit.

Be a good friend. Love your friend for who they are. And remember that your true friends will love you no matter how your face ages. They will love you more for the light and energy that shines through your eyes.

Funeral Rights

Should anyone be stopped from attending the funeral of a loved one? A child, an estranged relative, a divorced partner?

If they loved the deceased and the deceased loved them, even if there had been acrimony, perceived wrong or disloyalty, should those in control, the funeral-throwers or directly bereaved, have the authority to stop that person?

You would hope in those circumstances that the person or people in the controlling position would have empathy, largeness of heart and good will – no matter how much they dislike the contentious person. After all it’s an emotional time and they’re supposed to be thinking of their loved-one’s wishes.

If the bereaved is the wife, husband, life-partner, son, daughter, mother or father, their position obviously has weight. But even if they hate someone, and I’m not talking murderer or rapist here, I’m talking about Joe-average, do they have the right to say, ‘Stop. Do not pass. You are not welcome here, go home.’

Here is why I think not.

Funerals are about paying respects to the deceased and to those who are most affected by the loss. They’re an acknowledgement of a life, hopefully, well-lived. They’re about spending time in deep reflection, remembering who that loved-one truly was: appreciating their strengths, forgiving their weaknesses and feeling them in your heart. They’re a time to absorb the enormity of that person’s passing/leaving/dying, or whatever your word is. Funerals are about accepting the love and loss, revelling in funny stories, crying over sad ones, sharing with others that feel the same way, joining together in a celebration and mourning.

Loved one’s stories are told, embellished and renewed. They become cemented in your mind and heart and in that way, the deceased stays with you forever. A funeral is a fitting closure to a life and should be shared by all that loved, respected or was just touched by, the deceased.

No one should be stopped from attending a funeral of a loved one.

 

With great respect, I wish my father-in-law farewell. You’ve been another father to me since I was seventeen. You gave love, guidance and support for over 35 years. You enjoyed being sociable, having fun and playing the clown with all the grandchildren. You were a good man.

RIP Barry Simmons 9/11/18 (A man who saw images in clouds)