Stepping Out

It is well past seven in the morning, yet the Scottish sun has not risen in the sky. There are traces of its golden veins that shine mysteriously like the pages of an illuminated manuscript when they catch the light. The trees are standing still and waiting for a beam, from high above the blue sea, to breathe life into them. 

The fishermen are already out at the sea and they have probably made a few trips from the harbour to the sea by the time the dawn comes. The harbour has been very busy after the restrictions are easing although social distancing measures make no difference to the daily life of the fishermen. They are used to the world of isolation in which the only language they pay attention are the language of wind, sea and sky.

I am delighted that in Scotland no deaths from Covid-19 were reported for ten days running and the restrictions are easing and social visits to houses are now allowed. We are allowed to meet our families and friends again to form what they call ‘a bubble’. The good news about forming a bubble is that no one can be accused of being cliquey. 

A bubble is a set and a clique in which like-minded people come together to interact with one another. A bubble is not as same as a team. A bubble does not have a room or a doorway for others. It carries a negative connotation when someone says 'you are living in a bubble'. People in the business sectors prefer to have a team than a bubble.

One of the arguments for the downfall of Muriel Spark’s famous character, Miss Jean Brodie in the novel is that she prefers to have a bubble “the Brodie Set” instead of a team, which is more democratic and inclusive rather than exclusive. But I do not mind a bubble if it means to keep us all safe and away from this deadly virus.  

While I have been shielding, I have not been outside of my village since 26th of January (for seven months). I feel a little bit deprived! I have a longing for a change of scenery to offset the scene of familiarity.

The first trip that I decided to go as a way to celebrate for coming out of quarantine was to go to the beach with my dear friend Gordon on a very early morning last week. We put our hot drink in a flask, hand sanitising gel, masks and our favourite Judy Collins’ CD, Bohemian, and then, we headed in the car to the wide open road for the first time. 

I came out of the house like the prisoner with a feeling of deliverance. We were jumping with joy! In the early hours of the morning, the roads were still quiet and the fields and the orchards were golden and filled with fruits and crops ready for harvest. Everything looked strangely timeless steeped in a quiet melancholy beauty.

We took our hot drink in a flask, masks and my favourite album, Bohemian by Judy Collins (2011) to listen in the car while we drove to the beach about 15 minutes away from my house. When Judy came to perform at the Queen's Hall in Edinburgh in February this year, Gordon and I went to see her at the concert. It was amazing and the most memorable experience. Her voice is amazing grace.     

After seven months of confinement, I came out of the house with a feeling of deliverance. Gordon reminded me that I was like a postman, Angelino, a cheerful messenger, played by the Italian actor, Ninetto Diavoli who dances around in a circle to the sound of music, fluttering his arms like a pair of angel’s wings in Pasolini’s film, Teorema (1968). 

As we drove to the beach, we saw another Angelino, just as exuberant, flying in the sky.  

Near the beach there are cottages partially buried by banks of wild grasses and flowers, and painted window frames, bedecked with rows of red geranium pots and lace curtains. When we arrived to the beach, it was entirely delightful with the fresh sea breeze, full of healing ions that stripped away our stagnant cobwebs. It is a place where you always receive more than you give. A place where you can find serenity – the deep serenity which surpasses all understanding.

"Marooned by choice upon an island where the sea

Serves as a citadel and only guarantee

Of freedom from the tyranny of maps and guides...

Some place so full of peace that we could cast away

The last remaining doubts and every fear allay." 

Leonard Clark (1905-1981)

Very few people were walking quietly with their dogs and meditating on the endless parade of sea birds flying in the big, wide open sky. I want to know if they were also fatigued indoor people who at last ventured out in the world after an endless confinement. Where do they come from? What is their story? Does the sea enthrall them in the same way as the children on the beach? 

To be by the seaside for two hours is possibly equivalent to a week holiday. It has a secret energy which charges the air and invigorates the spirit. I realised that this must be the time when we feel the silent, peaceful energy of the sea and call it sacred. 

Judy Collins’ song was playing earlier in the car and the lyrics seem very apt: “If you want to view paradise/Simply look around and view it…” 

On a nice sunny day, we have our dinner outside with friends and we form 'a bubble'.

While Gordon prepared for our lunch, I arranged flowers and listened to Richard Dyer-Bennet’s albums. Richard has the most beautiful tenor voice. His clear enunciation is perfect for singing the poetic folk songs such as Down by the Sally Gardens. 

Stepping into the light

This evening I am happy to find myself in a sitting room with my kind and much-loved literary friend, Mr Victor Gollancz after my dinner. He and I formed a sort of kinship. To be precise, I am sitting down with a book that has been my constant companion for many years, a book compiled by Mr Gollancz (1893-1967), famous British writer and publisher, called From Darkness to Light (first published in 1956). 

The first edition contains over 600 pages, which he later cut into an abridged edition in 1964. The abridged edition comes with a different foreward by Gollancz, and as one would expect, it is much shorter with 349 pages. 

It is an anthology that I would be happy to read for the rest of my life. It is my theology. It is my stepping stone from darkness to light. Whenever there is a moment of fear, loneliness, anxiety or torment, I would reach out to this book and read a few passages to calm me with its aura of wisdom, beauty, eloquence and erudition. Mr Gollancz is not only my literary friend but also a wise counsellor.  I feel completely soothed and at ease in his company whenever I read his anthology.

There are three anthologies he put together during his lifetime; A Year of Grace (1950), From Darkness to Light (1956) and A New Year of Grace (1961). I have all three of these anthologies in my library. Out of all three anthologies, the book that I keep coming back to is From Darkness to Light: A Confession of Faith in the form of an Anthology (1956) because it really struck a chord with me on the mystical and spiritual level. The intention behind his anthology is for personal reflection. It is a constant source of inspiration for my philosophy of life, my journal and writing this blog.

There are beautiful passages from different sources including world religions, literature, poetry, music and memoirs. They are written by artists, poets, humanists, philosophers, mystics, prophets and outsiders who do not seem to fit into the world or the ways of society. All the stories are particular and yet, human condition portrayed in these stories is universal. Some entries are short verses and some are very long. It is obvious that the attention span of the readers in 1956 was much more expansive than our jumpy and fractured age of mass media where so much energy goes into ephemeral things.

Reading this anthology is a form of meditation and a quest for internal wisdom. For the first time readers it is important to follow Mr Gollancz’s advice. It is beneficial if you do not skip, skim or dip in and out. He wrote in his foreword to his first anthology, “A Year of Grace”:

“The book is intended and designed to be read from beginning to end as a consecutive whole: as if, that is to say, it were a continuous piece of writing by one hand, all now appearing for the first time. I should of course be pleased if it might subsequently be found useful for the bedside.”    

At his request, I read the anthology from the beginning to the end, and the result of doing so for a few times has given me a healing agent, sustenance and guidance in times of need. 

I learnt a little later that Mr Gollancz suffered from depression - a form of existential crisis, which plunged into a nervous breakdown after the Second World War. Under these extremely difficult conditions, I daresay that he used these anthologies, which are a pure expression of mysticism, as a way of self-directed therapy for his recovery. 

Sir Victor Gollancz (c.1950), National Portrait Gallery, London (Hirtemann, Image credit) 

Many readers wrote to him how much his anthology helped them overcome from the depth of despair. He summarised two crucial points in the outpouring feedback he received from his readers:

“First, that the book has calmed them a little, if only a little, after a long period of anguish; and secondly that they no longer feel totally isolated – outlawed from humanity. For a great number of people believe that the experience is unique to them; and when they learn that many others have had it, including some of the greatest and best, and have come through it not merely unscathed but enriched, their spirit is lightened.”

I am glad to come across this anthology in a book sale at the local Unitarian Church (Unitarians are the most voracious readers. Their Sunday services are full of literary references to John O’ Donohue, Rilke, Voltaire and Emerson. Be sure to take a notebook with you when you attend their service). 

I first read it in a time of sad solemnity. I still have a vivid recollection of how hard I struggled to read the first chapter that describes the darkness, which had a deep impression on me. Mr Gollancz gently took me by his hand and showed me the virtues of resilience and self-reliance in his chosen passages.

When our darkness is too overwhelming, we cannot rely on any others but ourselves to find the guiding light. I also discovered that there are individuals who are just as torn and conflicted as I am, and what this book taught me is how these individuals managed to find serenity and miniature marvels in the midst of their sufferings. This anthology is a tapestry that unfolds, for ever new, and yet never changing its essence and its one incandescent thread of inner wisdom. It speaks to me as I tread across it.        

Reconciliation and compassion are the two forgotten words in our language. I once read in a newspaper that we live in a society where everything is permitted and nothing is forgiven. But this book teaches me about reconciliation with oneself and compassion for oneself. 

After many years of soul searching, this book pushes me towards the path of peace with the help of Mr Gollancz. One of my favourite passages in this anthology is from Laurence Housman’s Little Plays of St. Francis (1922):

“Human nature is like a pool of water, my Lord. Cast a stone therein, it goes rough and broken; stir it, it becomes foul; give it peace, let it rest, and it will reflect the face of the Heavens which lies over it.”

I now read this book every single day and write a dialogue of thinking in my journal with quotes taken out from this anthology. The passages in this book resonate with a deep inner calling. It gives me vision when there is darkness. It gives me hope whenever I feel the universe has nothing to offer me except its lofty silence. 

This evening I write down the words from Sir Walter Raleigh (taken from this anthology) in my journal: ‘Give me my scallop shell of quiet,/My staff of faith to walk upon…’