Commonwealth Day Celebrations

What Commonwealth? What Celebrations?

Well, this event seems to have gone mostly unnoticed. However, the Queen celebrated it by attending a Commonwealth Day Observance Ceremony at Westminster Abbey. There were also several members of the Commonwealth nations in attendance: Hugh Masekela, a South Africa musician, performed at this particular gathering of global peoples.

This moveable feast, is celebrated annually on the second Monday in March, and this year the theme was Connecting Cultures. The service in Westminster Abbey was to ‘explore the golden threads that tie together people from every continent, faith and ethnicity.’ This was achieved through a mix of world music, dance and personal testimonies to around 1,000 selected heads of states, official dignitaries, faith leaders and school children.

In the past there were national exhibitions and parties to celebrate this connection within Commonwealth countries, now there is a whisper in the British media to mark its occurrence. I wonder if the origins and links of the Commonwealth have, at last, become an embarrassment to the British monarchy and nation.

The Commonwealth (aka the colonial British Commonwealth) was first set up in 1949 with eight member countries. As of today, 12^th March 2012 - Commonwealth Day, there were 54countries that were members of the Commonwealth. It is now referred to as the modern Commonwealth because it is now an association of free and equal member from independent countries who are linked by shared values, goals and equal votes in all matters.

Queen Elizabeth II, marking 60 years as head of theCommonwealth, said: “This year, our Commonwealth focus seeks to explore how we can share and strengthen the bond of Commonwealth citizenship we already enjoy by using our cultural connections to help bring us even closer together, as family and friends across the globe."

My question is, ‘What does the Commonwealth mean to you?’ To me it does not mean anything sweet or pleasant. The bitterness of colonialism still resonates in daily life – especially in the failure to give a rounded historical account of the colonial times in British schools. This leads to ‘unconscious bias’appearing in the everyday life of people whose only real experience of African, Caribbean or Indian life comes from the Eurocentric education or the occasional story of forced economic migration heard from a grand-parent.

I don’t think that the Commonwealth ever had any respectability, I would further suggest that it has now lost all veneer of respectability. This muted celebration confirms my views.

R.I.P. Commonwealth of Nations. The wealth of nations is anything but common.

Mean

Does being mean cause pain? I contest that it does. Some folk will respond with that age old rhyme of ‘Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me,’ but they are wrong, names do hurt and sometimes they are the final straw that causes someone to tip over the edge.

Does that mean we can’t have fun? No, it doesn’t. But there is a big difference between having fun and being mean and I’m sure that we all know the difference ... especially when the meanness is directed at us.  

There was an episode on a TV show where a girl blogged about her classmate: it was quite simply a case of cyber-bullying. The classmate eventually committed suicide because of the social pressure and negative attention she was receiving from her fellow students as a result of the meanness started from the blogs. In this particular episode of Harry’s Law (s2, ep 4) it was argued that meanness is part of everyday life and that we can’t all be held responsible for the subsequent actions of people just because we have contributed some mean act to their life and day.

The lawyers argued that newspapers portray meanness on a daily basis, as do politicians and other public figures. This does not make it right although it has become an accepted, nay normal, part of everyday life.

I think that it’s better to be kind than mean. I’m sure I’m not the only one.

I prefer to receive kindness than meanness. I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Meanness causes pain, and often leads to death. That’s the truth. 

Fashionable me?

I am not a follower of fashion. I have never wondered why because I know that I like what I like, not just what is currently popular with the masses. I have never been a sheep.

When you really think about it anything fashionable is designed to pass away quickly. That is the nature of fashion. One moment it is the ‘must have’, the next it is the ‘has been’. This fact made me wonder why people are so obsessed with something that is so transitory.

My interest in people and things is not a fashion trend. I am in it for the duration.

This means that even when others have lost interest and moved on to the next big thing, I’ll still be there – sticking to what suits me, not being sucked into the current fad of the moment. I will retain friendships that seem unfashionable because a friendship goes beyond fashion. A friendship is real and durable through changing 

fancies or prevailing moods.

I am real and if that means I am seen as unfashionable, then so be it.

Amen.

World Cancer Day

World Cancer Day - this is marked annually as a worldwide event on the 4^th February.

I never knew that it existed before this year. The day, I mean, not cancer.

I’m sure we are all aware of cancer and people it has affected, people it is affecting right now. I know of cancer survivors. I also know of those who have not survived against the illness or who are currently undergoing treatment. Cancer makes me sad beyond expression.

All illness, especially cancer – because of its aggressive nature against the body, reminds me that we have to really delight in life right now. We have to enjoy the moments that we have and fill them with pleasure because tomorrow is not promised to us.

Sorry if that’s too heavy for you right now, but it’s real.

There are things that we can do to prevent some illnesses and if we can stop cancer in our bodies then I think we should. I will do my best for myself and my beloved child, I hope you will do your best for you and yours.

I may already know you, but if I don’t that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you – I do. I want everyone of us to live the best life possible, in the best health possible. As Lance Armstrong says, Live Strong.

http://www.worldcancerday.org/

A Canadian short film to mark World Cancer Day:  My Healing Journey: Seven Years with Cancer, Joseph Viszmeg.

Amazing, inspiring, life-changing. 

Shared because I care.

On Whose Authority?

I think Christianity has some excellent points. I also think many of them get lost behind the religiosity of many organisations.

This recent Sabbath I was sitting in church between Sabbath School and Divine Service and the room was unusually quiet. This is a time when people spent their moments in reflective thoughts or prayer or join in rousing hymns of praise together: neither seemed to be occurring this week.

As a fellow member walked past, I asked him if he would lead the singing. He is both a vocalist and an instrument player. He declined, saying, “I’m just a visitor, I need to be asked.” I laughed and said, “Well I’m asking you.”

His response shocked me. “You have no authority here,” was his immediate retort, “you can’t ask me.” 

Now, I know that he is an official member at the other local church and my church membership is held in a different county but it made me wonder how much praise was regulated by officialdom.

“I get my authority from God,” was my instant reply.

This drew laughter from him but he still did not feel able to go against the forms and customs of the local congregation and so went back to his seat with a smile.

Does God have to wait for the deacons, elders and pastors to regulate His praise before it can commence?

I was left wondering on whose authority Christianity was being regulated. It appears God is not front and centre any more.

Rewriting history

This is something that only the colonial powers do, right?

I beg to differ.

I think we’ve all be guilty of rewriting history: ours and others.

By not mentioning someone and their part in our lives we are, in effect, writing them out of our history. But is that such a bad thing? I don’t think that it always is a bad thing. That person could have had such a negative effect on our lives that we choose to ignore them.

But does that make the affect they have actioned in our existence go away? I don’t think that it does.

Sometimes when I hear about particular people and how they are discussing their life story I do sit and wonder about the missing characters that I know were there. How do I know? Because I was once one of them and I have been erased from the retelling of their story.

This may make me sad, but they obviously have a good reason to do this.

Then I look in the mirror and I see the same thing happening in my life, so who am I in my glass house of mirrors to throw stones or talk about rewriting history?

See like doctors?

I think children and doctors are similar in their outlook: everyone is more or less the same.

I came to this conclusion while helping a child with their reading. We were going through a book called ‘How your body works’ and the concepts were clearly laid out in those small and colourful pages.

Everybody is a unique and special person and should be treated well.

We all look different on the outside.

We all have most of the same things inside of us that work the same way.

This made me think ...

What if doctors were to decide how to treat a patient having a heart attack or stroke depending on their hairstyle, their skin colour, their sexual orientation or their mobility? Would that be a good way to provide health care? The treatment needs to take in specific individual needs but generally, it’s the same approach and care process for all, isn’t it?

Sometimes I am a sheep ...

It’s getting cold and nobody likes to be standing outside longer than necessary, so I don’t quite understand how the following scenario happened – especially as I am a person who is none too fond of the cold.

I went to the cash point at the rear of the store, there were two machines but people were snaking behind just one of them. I joined them.

I stood there looking at ... nothing in particular while moving from foot to foot in an attempt to keep warm - in the way that queue members do. The people at the head of the queue seemed to be taking an exceptionally long time at the machine. I looked over to the other one, there wasn’t a sign on it saying it wasn’t working, but I still stayed where I was.

Then we moved forwards. I was still cold and as I moved closed I peered even more at the other machine. I still couldn’t see any sign (as if I thought it would materialise as I got closer!).

Other people came and joined the queue.

The man who was behind me cleared his throat and spoke, I looked around at him. “Is the other machine not working?” he asked. The question in my mind was voiced.

I laughed as I said to him, “I don’t know. I’m just a sheep! I saw the queue and joined it.”

The woman in front of me also turned and started laughing. “Me too!” she smiled at us, “I’m not sure, I did the same.”

The man who spoke up repeated his question to the person leaving the head of the queue. “No,” the departing person confirmed, “it’s not working.” Someone then felt brave enough to approach the cashpoint and said, “No, the card reader is damaged.”

With a sigh of relief we all settled back down into our English reserve and resumed our quiet places in the queue feeling justified that we hadn’t broken queuing protocol.   

Sometimes I feel like a sheep but sometimes I just know I’m so English! We love our quiet queuing. 

Best advice so far ...

I love to communicate and I use social networking sites to aid that task.

When I sent a message out to a special contact this morning I got the best advice that I have received this week. She said, “Create a great week!”

So, from her to me to you ... it’s all yours, go do it!

Fierce protection

I will protect the people and things I love fiercely: that includes myself.

I am not habitually a violent person but once – many moons ago – when someone persistently violated my personal space I did use physical force against them.  It shook me terribly for several hours, days and weeks. I have never forgotten the feeling of impending danger that I experienced and wanted to avert. I am not proud that I used force, but I am satisfied that I did the right thing at the right time.

That said, nowadays I use (as is my lifelong practice) the verbal skills of negotiation and personal engagement to avert any crisis.

Just last week I had cause to confront two youths riding a scrambler, at speed, on a footpath where I was walking with three children.

I did not approach them with aggression, although I could have, I was just intent upon sharing my thoughts – in a calm way – about the impact their reckless actions had and could have on others.

There was an initial standoff which included revving up of the bike as the rider turned the machine back towards me in a show of aggression. I walked forward regardless. I was determined but not stupid, I quickly assessed the situation and keeping eye contact I proceeded.

Insults were thrown at me, I decided to parry them with soft words and gentle inquiries. It seemed to work. 

Within a few minutes, the rider and his pillion passenger were calmer and nodding in understanding as I spoke with them. I explained that I knew about high-spirited actions but all I was asking was that they be considerate to the possibility of not so able people walking on the foot paths.

We parted amicably. The rider smiled from behind his balaclava and winked an acknowledgement of his understanding.

I was still calm as I went back to where my son and his friends were hiding around the corner. They were all safe that day, as was I. And I know things would have been so very different.

I am not easily deterred from doing right for those who are maligned. You see, I will always remain fiercely protective of those things close to my heart.

Part of my story

It’s the truth that you are part of my story and I am part of yours.

Our life stories have intertwined and become one ... at least for a while. I am happy to share this part of my journey with you. I hope that you, too, will be happy to have me as part of your life story.

Comparisons

We all seem to hate being compared to other people – either because we feel we are too superior to them or that we are totally overwhelmed by them. But, it is a fact of life, that no one is free from comparisons.

Recently I heard a woman on the radio being compared to her father. He was a playwright, she is a playwright ... altering one of his seminal pieces. She felt overwhelmed by his legacy. But, nevertheless, she did her very best. It appeared she did a fantastic job.

Some people may not agree. Because they will always hold someone up as the higher standard to measure things against. That does not alter the fact that if you do your best, you have done your best: that is your own personal standard and you have succeeded – outstandingly.

11/11/11 - Remember

11/11/11 - Remember

Man’s desire collides

between

life and duty,

mind explosions, fire!

Silence.

Upright backs

forever straight

under earth’s

pressure.

No peace found.

Bravery flows red.

Love and hatred

unite in the sod ...

forever.

© Marjorie H Morgan 2011 

Voices

It takes time to adjust to new sounds, especially to new voices. And before you know it, it’s as if you’ve heard that voice your whole life.

Before actually hearing a voice I have built up an audio track of what I perceive that voice to sound like. And what I have discovered is that it always sounds – in some degree – like me!

I have a tendency to fashion ideas and project my perceptions based on what is in my head. Then when the real thing comes along I have to make some adjustments. Then, it is all done. And before long, I can’t remember what that previous voice sounded like again ... even though I used to think it sounded different to me. It was me, but not me.

When the new sound is pleasant it immediately finds a place in my memory bank and the old recording is wiped away.

I like voices. They bring new adventures with each cadence and different stress on special words. Voices are more than words, they are individual characters.

Cowardly?

Way in front of me one of the elderly women who live on my street was making her way gingerly along the road. She had a couple of shopping bags in one hand and a sturdy walking stick in the other. For every one of her steps I took about three and I was soon walking parallel to her.

We exchanged greetings and, in the age-old English fashion, commented on the weather.

I noted that she was making sure and steady progress.

“I don’t want to fall over,” she replied. “That’s why I’m staying close to these.” She used her stick to point at the line of bollards.

“That makes sense,” I responded. “With this wind it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Yes,” she continued. “I’m not a coward, but I’m not stupid either.” Being a frail woman of relatively short stature, I understood her totally when she said, “I have to keep anchored.” I could see there was not much to her small slim frame and the wind was getting fiercer by the moment.

I wished her well as we parted and a short while later on my return journey I caught up with her as she continued her tortoise-walk in close proximity of the walls. We turned the corner of the street together and said  our goodbyes.

Her wisdom will stay will me long after the weather has changed many times. 

Lost and found

How do you know if something is lost? Is it just about missing its presence in your life?

I was wondering about things being lost and found when this scenario crossed my mind - it was brought about by a real situation – there was a seeker and a hider, the seeker was ecstatic because they had discovered the whereabouts of the hider.

“Found you!” He exclaimed with obvious delight.

She looked around in shock, this was not what she wanted. With a quick second glance at her surroundings she began to run ... away. She kept running while he just stood there with his mouth open.

It was then that he realised that sometimes people don’t want to be found. They are meant to be missing from certain people's lives.

Pay attention

I’m a walker and I’m a driver. I think sometimes I get the two mixed up.

The other day I was walking and I came up to some pedestrian crossing lights. I waited on the pavement with other pedestrians. You see, I was obeying the signal that told me when it was safe to cross the road and when it was not.

Imagine my surprise when, as the light turned green and I stepped into the road, that an old woman’s hand grabbed my left sleeve and pulled me back onto the pavement.

“But it’s green!” My protests became weak as a car swung in front of me just missing me by inches as it rounded the corner.

“He must have gone through a red light!” I exclaimed, as I started to walk across the road in the company of my new saviour.

“I just couldn’t manage if I saw someone have a bad accident in front of me,” The kind grey-haired woman continued to shake her head as she walked to the opposite pavement with me. We were both glancing over our shoulders and shaking our heads as we turned in unison to watch the errant car continue to speed off into the distance.

“I know the light was green,” I said, “green for us to walk, not for the car.”

It was then that I thought of my own experience as a driver and the times when I had driven through amber-turning-red lights. Then I was convinced that I was perfectly safe and in  control of all variables.

As I walked further into town I realised that I nearly got run over because I forgot what I sometimes do as a driver!

This incident makes me wonder why it often takes serious incidents to see things from a different perspective before we really commit to changing our behaviour.

What matters now?

In wars people reassess what matters to them.

Luxuries are no longer necessities. Clean water, basic food to eat, a place to sleep and someone you care about – these are the things that become all important again.

Some of us may not live in war situations on a daily basis, but I know that sometimes I lose sight of all the things 

that matter because of all the things that clutter my life.

When environments change, the question of everyone’s lips is always ‘What matters now?’

In your life today can you answer the question ‘what matters now?’

In my answer people always come at the top of the list, things are secondary. This matters now.

I don’t need more wars and deaths to know that.

Connections

I’ve heard it said that connecting with people is the easiest thing in the world to do.

I’ve heard it said that connecting with people is the hardest thing in the world to do.

Observing children I see that sharing a smile together is so easy, and within minutes they are playing like they were always friends.

Some connections I don’t yet understand but I know they are true and will last a lifetime. Other connections are like frayed rope and I wish they were stronger, but no matter how I look at it, no matter what happens, these connections are not natural or true.

Connections should be natural – just like (organic) food.

Can I confirm ... ?

I was looking after household business and called British Gas to ensure that I was getting the best deal possible for my fuel supplies. The woman on the other end of the line, Sarah, sounded as pleasant as anyone can when they are reading from a script that does not allow for individual personalities to shine through.

But then I got all pedantic with her, this Sarah person, in her guise as a customer service representative. She started trying to gain information by stealth: she was misusing – as far as I was concerned – the word ‘confirm’.

Sarah: Can I confirm your date of birth?

Me: (automatically responding) It’s 25^th ... hold on a minute, I don’t think you have it anyway, so how can you get me to confirm it.

Sarah: (Flustered sounds are heard – I’m suspect she was flipping the pages of her script for the next option.) OK. Can I conform your telephone number and email address?

Me: I haven’t shared either of those things with you before so how can I confirm them with you?

Sarah: We just need extra information to verify your identity.

Me: Why didn’t you just ask me for it then, instead of asking for confirmation of something that has never been stated? You can’t confirm something that is not known. You are misusing the word confirm in an attempt to get information without being clear about precisely what you are doing. I think that’s wrong.

Sarah: OK. Ms Morgan. I just need some additional information from you before I can help you with whatever you have called up about this morning. It’s a system requirement.

At this point I already know she’s not going to be very helpful to me in the rest of the call, but I decide to carry on regardless.

Me: I will give you my email address and phone number, however, I will not give you my date of birth. That’s something I don’t think you really need to know.

Sarah: (icily) Thank you, Ms Morgan.

Strangely, after this interaction, the deal I called up about had just finished because of ‘limited availability’ so Sarah was unable to guarantee me a lower fixed price deal for the next few years.

I am left with wondering if my pedantic response to her script conversation will cost me dearly this winter? 

Shall I call her back to confirm this is the case?