The #Unitarian demand for personal responsibility in matters of spirit requires maturity - the Ringwood gathering in March 2018 looked at Letting Go

Familiar faces were gathered there together on 11th March when we met to focus on the topic of “When I was a Child” – Letting Go.

We are vulnerable when young, when inexperienced, and in many other circumstances when we are reliant on the guidance and words from others, rather than on what we have found for ourselves.

We each have a ragged journey towards maturity.  We progress slower in some aspects than in others, and it is common for us to go to our graves immature in some way or other, with friends posthumously describing us as having had an incurable blind spot (or two) that were part of our unique charm.

For the most part we aim to become adult across the broad sweep of human activity, and to keep growing up throughout our life, but we forget that some ideas or rules that we take for granted are those we inherited as a child.  Unexamined, these can cause problems instead.

It is particularly important that we mature in our spiritual life, which is to say in those values and beliefs that, though hidden, drive our deepest and most instinctive behaviour. 

Instructions meant to help us in our early years need to be let go when we have moved on from the help they can give.  The choice and challenge are our own.  We have to take responsibility for our own becoming, our own knowing, our own doing, and our own relating to the world.

If we don’t let leftover, irrelevant knowings diffuse away, or transform into something more appropriate, we are the authors of our own continued knottedness.  It’s not always easy to do, especially since – inevitably – those instructions were given to us when young by people whose authority we trusted, often within the family or placeholders for family.

The readings we heard were by the apostle Paul (1 Corinthians 13), William Shakespeare (Romeo & Juliet, Act 2 Scene 2) and Dennis Lee/Jim Henson/Terry Jones (Sarah’s closing speech from the film Labyrinth).  We also enjoyed learning some new chants, some trickier than others.

Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered,

I have fought my way here

To the castle beyond the Goblin City,

To take back the child that you have stolen,

For my will is as strong as yours,

And my kingdom is as great.

You have no power over me.

Unitarians lead children's holidays

It was barely two and a half hours that I spent with Uni-Kids last night but I came back refreshed in spirit, though tired.  Uni-Kids is an annual adventure holiday for children largely from the south of UK, arranged and run by Unitarians.  This year, like last, the holiday is taking place centred on Burley Youth Hostel in the New Forest.  As this is only six miles from Ringwood, the opportunity to go and meet everyone and take part in a few activities was too good to pass up.  I’m not much good at children’s ages, but I would say that there wasn’t anyone over 13 in the group of ten children.

Burley Youth Hostel, New Forest, 28 July 2015

I turned up after dinner at the end of their first full day and heard tales of beach art and canoeing, blisters and getting wet.  Plans for the lido and a fusty museum tomorrow.  I was assigned to the Jumping Jellyfish team for the last two rounds of the evening quiz, which balanced things out a bit as several other teams also included an adult.  A hard fought competition ended in a four way tie-break; victory was underplayed by the children and the disappointment of the losers very slight.  All low key stuff.

Next we wrapped up warm, ready for a dusk walk in the Forest, and before we set out we played the old “Post It note on the forehead” game.  We each had an identity assigned through a picture of a Forest animal and by asking other people questions we had to work out what our animal was – or perhaps, who we were.  Funnily enough, I had seen this game often enough but had never before been a player.  I quickly found how hard it could be to think of fruitful questions to ask about “myself” out of the blue, and how much easier it became once I learnt to look at other “animals” and ask questions about “myself” through reference to other animals’ characteristics (am I stripey? – I asked the “badger”).  Hmm.  Serious learning point for me there, I think.  Can I easily learn about myself in isolation?

A shortish walk in the deepening dusk led us to a clearing where two mature oaks and two beech trees had been felled by some winter storm or other.  The Moon is about three quarters now and she was a beautiful sight above the tree line.  We carried out an exercise in mindfulness, paying full attention to all the noises we could hear.  For me, and for another as it turned out, it was a bit of a struggle to welcome the raucous throb of the tuned-pipe Harley Davidson motorbikes asserting themselves rather unnecessarily as they passed quite close by.  Much easier to welcome the alarm calls of the blackbirds and robins settling down for the night.  We didn’t hear any of the badgers, deer, sheep, donkeys, hedgehogs, squirrels etc that we had been earlier on, but we were able (after completing the mindfulness practice) to catch sight of a small bat.

When we got back to the Youth Hostel we had a reflective session over hot chocolate and biscuits, where we were each invited to say how we were feeling and name it in animal form, how that had changed since yesterday, what we had most enjoyed today and what we were looking forward to the next day.  And what would be tomorrow’s biggest challenge.

I felt like a heron or an ibis, poised, concentrating, watching, learning, picking out nuggets of food.  For I don’t have children of my own and I could recognise the skill it takes to make a learning programme seem like a holiday, or a holiday seem like a learning programme, without slip, without forcing, without pressure, without winners and losers.  I salute all those who carry out work like this to build the health and wholeness of the next generation.

For wholeness was what they were learning.  Working in groups and sharing the tasks and the responsibilities.  Walking quietly with intent, learning to listen.  Practical techniques for de-stressing and reconnection with the body.  Connection with the Earth.  Use of metaphor as a powerful tool of thought.  Listening to each other and self-awareness and self-examination.  A habit of active reflection and closure at the end of the day.  No wonder I felt refreshed as I drove home across the New Forest.