Dear Dad . . .

Yesterday my father would have been 77 years old. But in fact he died 13 years ago in March, 1999 aged 64. In those 13 years I don’t think there has been a single day where I have not thought about my father or remembered something of his wisdom, advice, kindness or generosity of spirit.

That is not to say that his death did not make me angry. It did. It was way too early. He never saw me married (or indeed divorced). He never saw me make a success of my career – something I think he worried about. He never saw me become my own man. (Although many believe that one only becomes one’s “own man” upon the death of one’s father . . .) and his friendship was taken away from me far too early. And I miss it.

My father never showed up to sports where I played. Too busy. He never understood what I did for a living. Not interested enough. He never showed much emotion or affection. Not able to find the way. As a result my relationship with him was distant in some ways and very close in others.

The day of his funeral I wrote him a letter. I read that letter in the church – which was so full, people were gathered outside. He was a much loved man.

I was the only person in the church who did not cry during my reading of the letter. 

Indeed I did not grieve my father with tears until nearly two years later when I read that letter again one afternoon and began to cry, later wailing. It lasted for 3 hours without pause. I cried until I could cry no more.

I still read this letter from time to time and remember my father. My friend. My guide. I have more or less forgiven him for all the ways he rejected me – perhaps unknowingly – as a child, and for finally abandoning me in his death. Now I simply miss him and wish I could have his advice from time to time.

Fortunately he was a man of strong principle and strong values and I have those principles and values to guide me in his absence.

Our parents are precious. I hadn’t seen my father for more than a month before he died – putting off visits to home because I was too busy in my life, not calling to speak, because I’d get around to it next week. . . 

After his funeral and I returned to my apartment in London, I found a message on the answering machine from him. It asked me to give him a call and let him know how I was doing etc. He had left it a few days before he died. I had not returned his call. And for the last 13 years, I have wished that I had.

The letter I wrote to him for his funeral is below:

Dear Dad

Although it is not long since we last spoke, suddenly ‘last’ has new meaning for both of us. It seems strange that we will never again speak to each other, that we will never again laugh with each other, that we will never again argue with each other.

I don’t know how to say how much I miss you, I don’t know if it is even possible to measure, just as I don’t know how to say how much I love you.

Before you left, you gave us a little time to say the things we wanted to say to you, but suffice to say that whatever was said, it will never do justice to what I felt and feel about you, my father, my friend, my guide.

There are things which you have shown me and taught me that I haven’t yet understood, and part of your legacy is that one day I will and for that I thank you.

One of the most painful parts of knowing that you are gone, is knowing that you are not there anymore. Not there to ask a question, not there to give me advice, not there to ask a favour of. Although you are not there anymore, you will, however, always be here, with me, with mum, with Charlie and with all your many friends, because although you have gone, you will continue to live with us, with so many memories happy and sad, and with so many reasons to be grateful to you.

Your quiet, unassuming approach to life was characterised by your compassion, your dignity and your pride, but most of all by your unqualified respect for your fellow man, be he patient, colleague, friend or family.

You always believed in the right and the proper. In a selfish world, you were always generous, in a cruel world, always kind. Always human, always humane, you helped so many people in so many ways, but never expected anything in return.

And for this I love you, for this I am grateful to you and for this I will always remember you.

I have so much to thank you for, as my father and as my friend. If I could be half the man you were, I would be truly proud, as I am truly proud of you.

In finishing these words, I recall something you wrote in the front of your bible as a child:

Take nothing away from it

Add nothing to it

Change nothing in it

Believe all of it

God bless you Dad.

Your loving son,

David

A Short Piece About Truth

Last night I had a dream which, after I woke up and tried to decode it, I concluded was about "truth".

I love truth. It is perhaps an abstract concept for most of us for most of the time although we think about it and refer to it in some way almost daily.

The truth nourishes us (understanding & clarity) and sometimes frightens us (enlightenment sometimes sheds light on unpleasant, hurtful things as well as the pleasant and good) - but it never leaves us alone. We cannot remain unaffected by truth.

We spend much of our lives trying to reveal and conceal the truth in equal measure. These are not only futile exercises, they create stress and anguish.

We tend to try and tell people about positive truths, while we tend try and conceal negative truths

In our efforts to reveal or tell our truth we often exaggerate or lose perspective - and it is futile as the truth reveals itself in any case, at least to those who can see. Those who cannot will never see the truth of a matter no matter what our efforts are. Truth is the ultimate dimension of reality - and some can see it, some cannot.

Many of us spend a great deal of time trying to project or show our "positive" truth emphatically and with ever growing clarity - telling people we love them, telling people how sorry we are, telling people how excited we are, how interested etc. Trying to make them believe something which is - or should be - evident to all those who are receptive to truth. While those who are not will never see it anyway.

We do it with our colleagues at work when we tell them how impressed we are with them - to give them confidence and make them feel motivated and positive - when actually it is often OUR confidence in THEM that needs a boost or some reassurance. . .

We do it with friends when we tell them how happy we are for them when something good happens in their lives believing that we are showing our support, solidarity and affirmation - when in reality we are often telling them how we are worried that their new happiness or success somehow makes us insecure that they will somehow be pulled away from us.

We do it with lovers or partners when we profess our love, our commitment and our care for them, believing we are showing them our feelings and making them feel good about themselves and the relationship. In reality we are often telling them how insecure we are, how we are afraid of commitment and how we need their care.

In other words, when we seek to clarify or reveal our truth to others, it is a) often unnecessary as people know already know our truth through our behaviors and b) disingenuous as we are often telling a different truth for ourselves, but disguised as a truth for them.

Conversely we often try to hide the truth. Either out of fear of what it will do to us or fear of what it will do to others. (Most of the time the two fears are the same - i.e. if the truth is revealed it will mean something to others which will then affect us . . . for we are selfish beings at our core, and it all revolves around us until we learn compassion.)

Thus most of the time the greater act of compassion is to tell the truth rather than hiding it from those we care about. When we try to hide the truth from others feels we tell ourselves that it is because we're protecting them and so we feel righteous and good about it. But actually we are not - we are tormenting them, for those we are connected to and close to intuitively feel the truth anyway. Hiding it from them hurts them and denies them the basic mutual respect they could expect from us based on our connection or relationship.

Think of the times you have fail or choose not to tell a colleague about their poor performance or lack of skills at work because you don't want to hurt their feelings - and yet you know instinctively that your behaviors and stance betray your real opinion.

Think of the times when you fail or choose not to tell a friend that they are behaving stupidly, naively or behaving like a spoiled child - because you are fearful of hurting their feelings or worried that they will reject your rebuke and it will damage your friendship - and yet you know they can feel your disdain or annoyance because your friendship allows them intuition.

Think of the times you hide things from your partner, from your ex or a new girlfriend or boyfriend - that you're feeling frustrated, that you're with someone else now, that you're uncertain or insecure - all because you're trying to protect them or avoid from knowing something difficult or uncomfortable - but really it's about your comfort not theirs. They know, because they intuit, because they know you. So not telling them is not respecting them, causing them anxiety and hurt in the process.

When you have a truth you are keen to share - show it, don't tell it.

When you have a truth you are keen to hide - tell it, don't show it.

If your truth is positive you don't need to tell it - just trust the other person to see what you are showing. And remember that if they don't see it then it wouldn't make any difference to them anyway if you tell your truth or not.

And if you are hiding something from someone, chances are they will already know, feel or suspect it - so tell them the truth - as you are already showing it to them. Choose your words, your method and your time carefully to show your genuine respect and sensitivity - but don't delay.

In both cases truth requires bravery on your part for the benefit of the other person - when your truth is positive, you must be brave and trust that your truth is understood. When negative for the other person, you must be brave and face the lesser of two evils and show them your respect and care by communicating what is already known or half known. Put the other person out of their misery - and trust that you will not lose them because of it.

Don't be afraid of the truth, be compassionate about it.

Lessons in Courage & Compassion - Chiune Sugihara, Japanese Diplomat

I found this story while researching something today and was really inspired by it.

Chiune "Sempo" Sugihara certainly falls into the category of "unsung hero" for most of his life, but what is really inspiring is his courage and compassion.

He acted with honour, dignity, humility and did the right thing with great consequences for himself and ultimately major sacrifice.

An impressive story, it contains several lessons:

1. Don't be a burden to others
2. Take care of others
3. Don't expect rewards for your goodness

And as Chiune Sugihara was quoted as saying:

"Do what is right because it is right, and leave it alone."

Here is the story of Chuine Sugihara:

WHO WAS CHIUNE SUGIHARA?

For the last half century people have asked, 'Who was Chiune Sugihara?" They have also asked, 'Why did he risk his career, his family fortune, and the lives of his family to issue visas to Jewish refugees in Lithuania?" These are not easy questions to answer, and there may be no single set of answers that will satisfy our curiosity or inquiry.

Chiune (Sempo) Sugihara always did things his own way. He was born on January 1, 1900. He graduated from high school with top marks and his father insisted that he become a medical doctor. But Chiune's dream was to study literature and live abroad. Sugihara attended Tokyo's prestigious Waseda University to study English. He paid for his own education with part-time work as a longshoreman and tutor.

One day he saw an item in the classified ads. The Foreign Ministry was seeking people who wished to study abroad and might be interested in a diplomatic career. He passed the difficult entrance exam and was sent to the Japanese language institute in Harbin, China. He studied Russian and graduated with honors. He also converted to Greek Orthodox Christianity. While in Harbin he met and married a Caucasian woman. They were later divorced. The cosmopolitan nature of Harbin, China opened his eyes to how diverse and interesting the world was.

He then served with the Japanese controlled government in Manchuria, in northeastern China. He was later promoted to Vice Minister of the Foreign Affairs Department. He was soon in line to be the Minister of Foreign Affairs in Manchuria.

While in Manchuria he negotiated the purchase of the Russian-owned Manchurian railroad system by the Japanese. This saved the Japanese government millions of dollars, and infuriated the Russians.

Sugihara was disturbed by his government's policy and the cruel treatment of the Chinese by the Japanese government. He resigned his post in
protest in 1934.

In 1938 Sugihara was posted to the Japanese diplomatic office in Helsinki, Finland. With World War II looming on the horizon, the Japanese government sent Sugihara to Lithuania to open a one-man consulate in 1939. There he would report on Soviet and German war plans. Six months later, war broke out and the Soviet Union annexed Lithuania. The Soviets ordered all consulates to be closed. It was in this context that Sugihara was confronted with the requests of thousands of Polish Jews fleeing German-occupied Poland.


SUGIHARA, THE MAN
Sugihara's personal history and temperament may contain the key to why he defied his government's orders and issued the visas. Sugihara favored his mother's personality. He thought of himself as kind and nurturing and artistic. He was interested in foreign ideas, religion, philosophy and language. He wanted to travel the world and see everything there was, and experience the world. He had a strong sense of the value of all human life. His language skills show that he was always interested in learning more about other peoples.

Sugihara was a humble and understated man He was self-sacrificing, self-effacing and had a very good sense of humor. Yukiko, his wife, said he found it very difficult to discipline the children when they misbehaved. He never lost his temper.

Sugihara was also raised in the strict Japanese code of ethics of a turn-of-the century samurai family. The cardinal virtues of this society were oya koko (love of the family), kodomo no tamane (for the sake of the children), having gidi and on (duty and responsibility, or obligation to repay a debt), gaman (withholding of emotions on the surface), gambate (internal strength and resourcefulness), and haji no kakate (don't bring shame on the family). These virtues were strongly inculcated by Chiune's middle-class rural samurai family.

It took enormous courage for Sugihara to defy the order of his father to become a doctor, and instead follow his own academic path. It took courage to leave Japan and study overseas. It took a very modern liberal Japanese man to marry a Caucasian woman and convert to Christianity. It took even more courage to openly oppose the Japanese military policies of expansion in the 1930s.


Thus Sempo Sugihara was no ordinary Japanese man and may have been no ordinary man. At the time that he and his wife Yukiko thought of the plight of the Jewish refugees, he was haunted by the words of an old samurai maxim: "Even a hunter cannot kill a bird which flies to him for refuge."


Forty-five years after he signed the visas, Chiune was asked why he did it. He liked to give two reasons: "They were human beings and they needed help," he said. "I'm glad I found the strength to make the decision to give it to them." Sugihara was a religious man and believed in a universal god of all people. He was fond of saying, "I may have to disobey my government, but if I don't I would be disobeying God."


SUGIHARA'S CHOICE

Time began to run out for the refugees as Hitler tightened the net around Eastern Europe. The refugees came upon an idea which they presented to Sugihara. They discovered that the two Dutch colonial islands, Curacao and Surinam, situated in the Caribbean, did not require formal entrance visas, and the Dutch consul informed them that he would be willing to stamp their passports with a Dutch visa to that destination. Furthermore, the Dutch consul had received permission from his superior in Riga to issue such visas and he was willing to issue these visas to anyone who was willing to pay a fee.

To get to these two islands, one needed to pass through the Soviet Union. The Soviet consul, who was sympathetic to the plight of the refugees, agreed to let them pass on one condition: that in addition to the Dutch visa, they would also obtain a transit visa from the Japanese as they would have to pass through Japan on their way to Curacao or Surinam.

Sugihara had a difficult decision to make. He was a man who was brought up in the strict and traditional discipline of the Japanese. He was a career diplomat, who suddenly had to make a very difficult choice. On one hand, he was bound by the traditional obedience he had been taught all his life. On the other hand, he was a samurai who had been told to help those who were in need. He knew that if he defied the orders of his superiors, he would be fired and disgraced, and would probably never work for the Japanese government again. This would result in extreme financial hardship for his family in the future.

Chiune and his wife Yukiko Sugihara even feared for their lives in making this decision. They agreed that they had no choice in the matter. Mr. Sugihara said, "I may have to disobey my government, but if I don't, I would be disobeying God." Mr. Sugihara was a humble man and, when asked why he did it, he often replied: "I saw people in distress, and I was able to help them, so why shouldn't I?" Mrs. Sugihara remembered that "the refugee's eyes were so intense and desperate- especially the women and children. There were hundreds of people standing outside." Fifty-four years after their decision, Mrs. Sugihara said: "human life is very important, and being virtuous in life is important as well." This was a decision that would ultimately save the second largest number of Jews in World War II. They chose to help the thousands who thronged the gates of his consulate in Kaunas.

The choice faced by the Sugiharas was a moral dilemma that thousands of consuls all over the world faced every day. Few lost sleep in shutting the doors in Jewish faces. These consuls went strictly by the book, and in many cases, were even stricter in issuing visas than their governments required. Countless thousands could have been saved if other consuls had acted more like Sugihara. If there had been 2,000 consuls like Chiune Sugihara, a million Jewish children could have been saved from the ovens of Auschwitz.


VISAS FOR LIFE

For 29 days, from July 31 to August 28, 1940, Mr. and Mrs. Sugihara unflinchingly sat for endless hours signing visas with their own hands. Hour after hour, day after day, during three weeks, they wrote visas. They wrote over 300 visas a day, which would normally be more than one months work for the consul. Yukiko also helped him register these visas. At the end of the day, she would massage his fatigued hands. He did not even stop to eat. His wife supplied him with sandwiches. Sugihara chose not to lose a minute because people were standing in line in front of his consulate day and night for these visas. When some began climbing the fence to get in on the compound, he came out and calmed them down. He promised them that as long as there was a single person left, he would not abandon them.

After receiving their visas, the refugees lost no time in getting on the train that took them to Moscow, and by the trans-Siberian railroad to Vladivostok. From there, most of them continued to Kobe, Japan. They were allowed to stay in Kobe for several months. They were then sent to Shanghai, China. All of the Polish Jews who were issued visas survived in safety, under the protection of the Japanese government in Shanghai. They survived, thanks to the humanity and courage of Chiune and Yukiko Sugihara. The visas they issued turned out to be passes to the world of the living. When Sugihara had to leave Kaunas for his next post in Berlin, he handed over the visa stamp to a refugee, and many more Jews were granted life.

In 1945, the Japanese government unceremoniously dismissed Chiune Sugihara from the diplomatic service. His career as a diplomat was shattered. He had to start his life over. Sugihara was without a steady job for over a year. Once a rising star in the Japanese foreign service, Chiune Sugihara worked as a part time translator and interpreter. For the last two decades of his life, he worked as a manager for an export company with business in Moscow. This was his fate because he dared to save thousands of human beings from certain death.

Today, 50 years after the event, there may be 40,000 or more people who owe their lives to Chiune and Yukiko Sugihara. Two generations have come after the Sugihara survivors, and they owe their lives to the Sugiharas. All the survivors call him their savior, some consider him a holy man, and some think he was a saint. Yukiko Sugihara recalled that every time she and her husband had met or heard of people they had saved, they felt great satisfaction and happiness. They had no regrets.

After the war, Mr. Sugihara never mentioned or spoke to anyone about his extraordinary deeds. It was not until 1969 that Sugihara was found by a man whom he had helped to save. Soon, many others whom he had saved came forward and testified to the Yad Vashem (Holocaust Memorial) in Israel about his life-saving deeds. The Sugihara survivors sent in hundreds of testimonies on behalf of their savior. After gathering the testimonies from all over the world, the committee at the Yad Vashem realized the enormity of this man's self-sacrifice in saving Jews. Before his death, he received Israel's highest honor. In 1985, he was recognized as "Righteous Among the Nations" by the Yad Vashem Martyrs Remembrance Authority in Jerusalem. He was too ill to travel; his wife and son received the honor on his behalf. Further, a tree was planted in his name, and a park in Jerusalem was named in his honor.

He said that he was very happy with the honors. "I think that my decision was humanely correct."

The above text was written by Eric Saul and can be found at this site: http://www.eagleman.com/sugihara/

More on Sugihara at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chiune_Sugihara 

Αναθεώρηση Part 11: Πρόβλεψη / Outlook For 2012

Over the last 12 days - the first of 2012 - I have reviewed and reflected on different aspects of my 2011. From people to places, sounds to images etc. It has been a pretty thorough review and at times quite raw and difficult.

So . . . what does it all mean? Where am I going to go with all the things I’ve digested, created, learned and shared in 2011? Who am I going to spend time with? How am I going to spend my time? Where am I going to spend my time?

I don’t believe in resolutions or New Year promises that exist as a stress and only to be broken. I am much more interested in exploring the things that I really WANT to do. If the things I WANT to do align with the THINGS I “should” do then I may have a chance of doing them, n’est-ce pas?

Most of the things I want to do in 2012 are really just building on what I’ve been doing in 2011 (although there are some things I did in 2011 or happened to me in 2011 that I definitely want to avoid). Some, however, mark significant departure and change…

Here are the 12 for 2012:

1. Be more compassionate . . .

I want to continue to work on being compassionate – first to myself and then to others. I am sometimes rather hard on myself – and often allow myself to feel very disappointed in myself and the things I do. While it is perhaps helpful to be self-censoring and to maintain a level of self-criticism or at least slef-awareness, it is important not to end up being tougher on oneself than one really needs to be.

So I will forgive myself, I will give to myself and I will take care of myself by respecting who and what I am and valuing that properly and appropriately.

I include a short video on compassion from The Center for Compassion and Altruism Research and Education at Stanford University in California. I think it is great that a university like Stanford has set up a center like this and is focusing on this area. People are taking this compassion business pretty seriously . . .

http://ccare.stanford.edu/sct/why-cultivate-compassion

2. Let go of the past . . .

I want to put the past  - not just 2011 – behind me. Not to forget about it – obviously – but to leave it where it is. In the past.  I love history and all that it can tell us, but I believe I have relied too much on the past in my life and need to be much more present in the here and now.

Talking of letting go of the past – and binning it - check out this amazing initiative which a friend shared on FaceBook – really impressive and a neat idea. 

http://www.tiralopeorde2011.com/en/

3. Play, write & listen to more music . . .

I didn’t play or write as much music as I could have done in 2011 – mainly due to injuries and time.

This year I want to work on my piano playing, write more music and songs and most of all I want to listen to more music – especially classical and jazz.

It’s a simple thing and I know it will feel great. I’ve missed my music!

4. Giving up things (to take care of myself better) . . .

I have given a lot of thought to the things I really don’t need in my life and which prevent me or obstruct me from taking better care of myself.

There are few things which I think it is right to give up absolutely – other than cigarettes (which I have almost given up but still indulge in periodically) – but there are several things which I can stop pushing and relegate significantly in terms of my involvement / consumption / interest.

I am going to reduce the amount of motorcycles I own and the amount of motorcycling I do. I am going to continue to ride occasionally in the desert and will probably do a little bit of touring in Europe or the US, but I think that starting track riding and racing, continuing a lot of road riding and so on is pushing my luck in terms of age, injuries and resilience. Not time yet to hang up my helmet, but definitely time to accept I’m not 20 any more and make this a smaller part of my leisure time.

I’m also going to reduce my other bad habits - such as bad food, over-travelling and over general over-indulgence . . .and hopefully get a little bit of a better balance in terms of how I spend my free time.

I want to become more moderate and not push myself so hard to do things which are dangerous, tiring or just plain bad for me.

5. Taking up things (to take care of myself better) . . .

To balance some of the things I am going to reduce, I want to increase some of the things that are actively good for me.

No extreme targets or promises here, but simple recalibration of time and effort to include more healthy and soothing things – including regular exercise -  even if it is just a brisk walk, get back to doing some basic and simple yoga, continuing a healthy balanced diet, and perhaps most fundamental of all – getting plenty of good rest and sleep.

Simple – but worth focusing on a little.

6. Relationships . . .

Life is too short to spend it with assholes, losers, painful people, rude people, stupid people. We all know that.

But life is also too short not to spend the maximum amount of time with the people we really care about and who really interest us.

This year I want to spend time on the relationships that are most important to me. On my family, my close friends, my good buddies - and also on the random but important and valuable connections I have made with people across the globe.

But not on "acquaintances" and the like - I'm sorry but that time belongs to my friends.

And if you are wondering which category you fall into, you have probably just answered your own question.

7. Travel a road less travelled . . .

I mean this in both a literal and metaphorical sense.

I want to do more travel to places I don’t know instead of places I do – or at least bring that back into a better balance. I’ve fallen into the habit in the last few years of spending my leisure travel predominantly in places that I know and have been to before. I want to see some new places in 2012 and have some new experiences.

Metaphorically I also want to try new things, think in new ways and encounter new experiences in all forms. I love change and have appetite for new things – and I am working on being more open minded about the opportunities to do these kind of things.

Here’s to the road less travelled – I’ll write about it when I get there.

8. Write a short story (or maybe two) . . .

I’ve done a lot of writing this year – mainly essays on this blog, some travel pieces, and food writing and a little “creative” writing.

A number of kind people (and I hope in possession of intelligence and good judgment too) have said positive things about my writing and encouraged me to do more.

As writing provides both therapy and self-expression for me, I am not at all adverse to this and have decided that I am going to focus on writing one (at least) fictional short story this year. Something that I will write with great care, that I will edit with sensitivity and brevity as equal goals – and which I hope will reflect both my creative passion and my point of view on the subjects I write about. I hope I can produce something evocative and inspiring.

To the few people I have mentioned this too already – thank you for the kind offers to proof read, criticize, comment and generally support.

9. Spend more time in Greece . . . 

This may sound at odds with point 7, but I have realized that I have never really gotten over my love affair with Greece and remain deeply attached to her. To this end I must spend more time there to allow myself to feel comfortable and satiated.

If you’ve ever loved a place that’s not your home, you will know what I mean.

10. Love a little better . . .

This applies to all the kinds of relationships I have – friendship and beyond. I don’t consider myself weak or deficient particularly in this area - but I know I can be a little more thoughtful, a little more sensitive, a little less demanding and just a little “less” sometimes.

As Ovid, the Roman poet wrote: “If you would be loved, be loveable”.

11. Get to know my brother . . .

As referenced in my first piece in the review of 2011, I have neglected my relationship with my brother and I realize this has cost me – and him – and I wish to rectify that.

I plan to spend more time with him this year and to spend specific time travelling with him to get to know him better.

I am looking forward to that journey.

12. Epilogue . . .

In conclusion, I’m simply going to enjoy more of the things I love in life, and do less of the things I don’t want or need anymore.

And I'm going to keep on writing about them - whether just plain description and observation or more analytical and philosophical - because I enjoy that too.

I leave 2011 with this quote – from a slightly unusual source perhaps – but I think it says a lot:

“Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it.” 

Elizabeth Gilbert – Eat, Pray, Love

Αναθεώρηση Part 4: Words . . .

I am unnaturally interested in words and in language - they are crucial to communication which is in turn vital to understanding. And if there is one thing I crave almost more than any other, it is understanding.

To that end words are very important to me, and in looking back at 2011 there are several - admittedly heavy - words which have stood out. (Well . . .you wouldn't be interested in "light words" would you???)

Here they are, my favourite 11 words of 2011:

1. Faith

This is a word I’ve spent lots of time thinking about – and writing about – in 2011. I can’t really define it and I certainly don’t mean it in a religious way, but I think what I mean when use the word faith is the unshakable belief in something for which there is no tangible reason to do so. Belief without proof.

In our 21^st century data driven world of materialism and extreme tangibility, it strikes me that faith is becoming more of a rarity – and yet perhaps we all need faith now more than ever?

2. Courage

I’ve seen a lot of courage in 2011 – and a lot of cowardice, its antonym. I have been both courageous and cowardly myself. I am proud of my courage and ashamed of my cowardice.

During this last year, I have been especially humbled by people who face challenges in their lives which make any I have seem utterly trivial and pathetic – fighting life threatening disease, facing long term unemployment, marriages breaking up, financial ruin, and so on.

Courage is not always easy to find in one’s self – and sometimes we need to be inspired by others or outside influences – but courage, combined with faith, is what it takes to get us through periods of uncertainty, doubt and despair.

To those people who suffer, struggle or fear – take courage. Even lions are afraid sometimes. Don’t give in to cowardice.

3. Compassion

Around two years ago I read a book by the religious historian and philosopher Karen Armstrong. A book about compassion. It had a huge impact on me. Since reading that book I have been much more consciously aware of the importance and value of being compassionate. I believe that as a result I am slightly more compassionate than I was and also slightly more predisposed to increasing my compassion over time.

In simple terms compassion is encapsulated in the mantra “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. It necessitates understanding, empathy, forgiveness and hope. I think it is the most positive force for good in a world full of unnecessary compromise and often evil.

Compassion does not need to become zealousness or dogma, just a matter of simple and quiet reflection from time to time.

4. Self

In reflecting at various points in the year about things such as happiness, satisfaction, peace of mind etc, it has consistently struck me that I, and most people I know, under value  - and thus under attend to and under nourish - a very important relationship. The relationship with our selves.

I wrote about this fairly often in 2011 and on my own personal journey have come to learn more deeply the value of taking care of one’s self. This is not just an act of self-preservation or self-love, but an act of understanding, empathy and trust.

And when one gets better at taking care of one’s self, you get a lot better at taking care of other people – and allowing them to take care of you.

5. Neglect

I have neglected myself and those that I love frequently during 2011.  It is only normal to do so as we are only human and confused most of the time. But neglect is not always a passive condition related only to apathy. It is often very active, driven by self-absorption and selfishness and the results of neglect can be very damaging to ourselves and to others.

The good news (yes, I am a positive person, remember . . .) is that our neglect of ourselves and of others is usually kept in check by little spiritual or physical “post-it” notes which we receive and which prompt us to end our neglect and pay attention.

In our health this is through symptoms, in our relationships, friendships and interactions with the world at large, it can be more complicated, but usually signs of neglect manifest themselves after a while.

My advice is don’t ignore them. Don’t allow yourself to neglect too much or too often, or you will become neglected…

6. Synchronicity / Συνχρονικότητα

I love this word. And I love it in Greek in particular where it has a beautiful flavour. 

It is a Jungian concept which can be basically be defined as ‘coincidence with meaning’ (for my Greek friends "συμπτώσεις που έχουν νόημα")

What I love most about the concept of synchronicity is that it basically denies the existence of luck. If you believe in synchronicity then the things that happen to you, the people that you meet, the places you experience, are all somehow endowed with meaning and import. Almost, but not quite, like destiny.

And what have I got against luck? Well they way we conceive of luck makes it seem so arbitrary and therefore subject to a great deal of unfairness. ("I can’t help it if I’m lucky" . . .from Idiot Wind by Bob Dylan) . . .

I also draw comfort and a sense of purpose from the idea that the things that happen in life happen for a reason. (And my curious part loves to try and figure out what that reason is).

7. Growth

Growth and growing. As a large person it would appear that I have done quite a bit of growing – in all dimensions, but 2011 made me think more about what kind of growth internally one undergoes. No co-incidence I suppose that 2011 saw me I leap over the hurdle of my 40^th birthday and into middle age . . .

But aside from my own reflections, I also observed several other people “grow” in 2011 and some who haven’t yet.

I think one of the important stages of our adulthood is when we realize that it's all down to us. That we’re responsible. That we’re vulnerable. That there ARE NO givens any more. That it is time to put away foolish things. That it is time to GROW THE FUCK UP.

It doesn’t happen overnight – that’s for sure – and there is a tough period of time where people (and I did it a lot, and still do sometimes) PLAY at being grown up – only to retreat to their childish ways where “it doesn’t matter”, where others will take care of things, and where we’ll worry about tomorrow tomorrow. 

Our parents provide the ultimate comfort in this regard, but so do friends, colleagues and lovers – anyone who makes us feel safe and secure so that we can abuse their protection and care until we’re ready to grow up. And some people take a long time to do that – while others are forced into it much more quickly due to circumstance.

Most people are frightened of growing up because at one specific point you have to jump and choose to have faith in yourself and your resources to survive emotionally, practically and financially – and you have to leave the providers of those things behind. The relationship with them changes irrevocably and forever.

I caught up with a good friend recently after a year or so and she started telling me how she had grown up. She had faced the fear, taken the plunge and was a different, much more together person and is ready for the next stage of life. It was so good to see that change and to hear her talk about it.

Similarly it is very tough to watch other people struggling with it or even denying it, externalizing everything into other people’s fault, or complaining about how unfair life is.

Life is what you make it. We all deserve what we deserve in life. Nothing less or more.

Here’s to growing up!

8. Sputnik

I learned the meaning of this word while reading Haruki Murakami’s wonderful book “Sputnik Sweetheart”.

“Sputnik” means “fellow traveller” or “fellow travelling companion” from Russian – although apparently its roots lie in the early Russian translation of the Greek bible from Koine Greek (New Testament Greek) and probably relates to the word “κοινωνειν” which means “fellowship” or the “ability to share a common life”.

I like very much the idea that Plato articulates in the Socratic dialogue “Gorgias” where Socrates affirms that what a bad man lacks is the ability to “κοινωνειν” or to share a common life. This common life Plato goes on to describe in the Republic.

Our ability to find goodness and truth (in ourselves) lies in our ability to share with others.  The others being our sputniks.

9. Tizita

Another literary / musical inspiration – this time from the wonderful “Cutting For Stone” by Abraham Verghese.

In this book I first learned of “Tizita” - an Amharic word from Ethiopia.

 “It can mean, in the first place, memory and the act of memory. Some dictionaries parenthetically add nostalgia, or the memory of loss and longing—and nostalgia certainly evokes the word’s attendant mood, its melancholy, which is discernible in the way Amharic speakers use it even in the most quotidian exchanges. Secondly, tizita refers to one of the scales or modes in secular Ethiopian music, one that conjures up in sonic terms the word’s dictionary meaning of nostalgia. Finally, and incorporating the two, tizita refers to a signature ballad in the Amharic songbook, which always takes the form of an expression of loss. At bottom, tizita is a ballad about the memory of love loss.” 

(Dag Woubshet -Assistant Professor of English at Cornell from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia)

In short, it is Ethiopian blues. It also recalls the Sodade (or Saudade) genre from Cape Verde and made popular by the late Cesaria Evora.

tizitash zeweter wode ene eye metah

(First line of the “Tizita” - if you want to know what it means, Google it.)

You don't always know what you'll be longing for- until it's gone

10. Purpose

This was a word I used and thought about a great deal in the second half of the year.

One reason is my obsessive curiosity which drives me to know how things work and what they are for – i.e. what purpose do they serve?

On another level I realized that life has to have a purpose. And that a happy life has to have purpose beyond one’s self. Back to “κοινωνειν” in a way.

I have been thinking about purpose and its relationship to my (self) identity and how our sense of purpose defines us and our actions. Change our purpose, change our actions. Our wants and needs define our choices.

While I am capable of defining many purposes in and for myself, defining just one eludes me. As for purpose beyond just myself, that is much, much more difficult.

11. Forgiveness

I have left my favourite word for last in this list of 11 words.

2011 was a year of forgiveness for me, although forgiveness is something which blessedly comes to me with some ease and naturally. I am – to that degree – a forgiving person.

I have many friends who chastise me for being “too forgiving” – the implication being that I let people walk all over me, am a pushover or am weak. I reject both the accusation and the implication entirely. It neither does me - nor the person I am forgiving - justice. (I do forgive my friends for saying it though.)

Forgiveness is the kindest gift we can give other people. It is compassion encapsulated in a single act. It is very hard to do sometimes, but if we can find a way to do it, it is enormously liberating and healing.

The source of one very heated debate one evening with a large group of friends (the kind of debate and discussion which reminded me of my beloved days in Greece as it took place at around 3am and was fuelled with much wine and passion!) involved me being asked if I could forgive someone who raped and killed my own child. (My answer was “yes – I could” – but it would be one of the hardest acts of forgiveness I could imagine).

I don’t think we can really be selectively forgiving if we want to be truly at peace with ourselves. It’s kind of all or nothing.

Life is too short not to forgive.

I recommend everyone tries it in 2012.