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

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.