Last week I had a conscience stirring moment
Richard and I were out having a well earned tea/coffee break and foot rest whilst sitting outside at our favourite Hockley cafe in the centre of Nottingham's Creative Quarter. Totally immersed in our conversation, I could also hear lots of blurred sounds and was prompted out look from the corner of my eye to see what the commotion was about. It was a man who was struggling to get attention from any of the passers-by who were either ignoring him or fobbing him off. From what I could see he was very stressed and in need of help. He noticed me looking at him - I was then caught by my own an inner 'uh-oh' feeling inside. He walked towards us and asked if it was ok to share his tale. He simply had no money having just been evicted by his mother, and needed some bus fare. Were we willing to help? Taken aback by his good manners, politeness and 'honesty', my immediate reaction was 'oh yes, pull the other one'. Just as this happened, I was knocked by an immediate flash of a memory of my dad - which prompted a very different response within me. I'll explain why. Dad was a man with a social conscience who had witnessed much suffering in his life - happening to those around him as well as to himself. In 1947, his life would be disrupted and changed forever because of the traumatic bloody aftermath of India's partition, the subsequent withdrawal of the British Empire and the huge migration of millions of Indians across new borders to accommodate new land. This happened to dad as his family were on the wrong side of India's border (what is now in Bangladesh) and they had to make that painful journey to cross over into new India, becoming refugees in their own country. Dad's family lost everything - their home, livelihoods, income, communities, schooling, identity, sense of belonging - everything. He was 16 years old. Dad would eventually make his journey to England to find a safe place to work and live, whilst being able to send money back home to his family. During his journey, he witnessed enormous suffering where people's lives were destroyed forever - homeless, starving and desperate, and some even dying in the process as help didn't reach them in time. Dad rescued many people in his life time - including paying for their food, education and to help get work. These early memories would shape dad forever and influence his values that he would eventually encourage me to contemplate. Yet, here was I now facing a really difficult tension moment. With my head and advice offered by the Council about not giving money to beggers, I was tempted to go with my suspicion. Yet, with my heart, I could hear my dad and his ability to be hugely generous and compassionate. A favourite homily that he gave me was: "Lina, if you have two coins - whether it is ten pence or even one pound coins - keep one for yourself and give the other away to someone who you think needs it. You might help to save their life" Remembering this and reaching into my pocket, I noticed Richard had already given the man a £2 coin. Offering mine too, we were thanked with a relieved smile and namaste of thanks with coins well tucked into his palms - and he was off. My heart had ruled on this occasion and so did dad's teaching - a true socialist, he always saw the goodness in people and prompted to help people in need. Who knows what the agenda really was, and I am choosing to stay with his tale of wanting to get the Red Arrow bus back to Derby. On reflection, I hope I can hold an essence of dad's generosity and trusting ability in a world where we are now conditioned to be on guard, to question people's pleas for help and to watch out for people's motives in case we are being ripped off. I was lucky to be able to offer a coin of help as I was able to hold one back for me. Win-win as I would translate this in today's language. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
Oscar Wilde I wonder where Wilde was coming from? I have pondered much over the importance of being honest in conversation and recognising it's not always an easy thing to do. From my own experience (including in my caring role, and as a 40 plus year old British Asian woman) social and cultural conventions have placed great judgements about what are or not considered as appropriate subjects -depending on who you are talking to. Even with the closest of friendships and relationships, this can still happen and it can feel really tough. Yet, our own internalised judgements and resulting expectations (possibly based on first-hand experience or simply absorbed from our environment) can be just as detrimentally powerful in confusing expression and feeding those isolating feelings of being misunderstood. Examples might include:
my power?
Well, I have decided to take the plunge of practising the art of honest conversation and invite you on this journey with me. I will be exploring all sorts of issues including - life during the menopause, making sense of the irrational, a woman's wisdom, the value of being a Crone in the 21st century, challenges of being a carer to a deaf-blind husband, anger as a catalyst for change, having needs and making sense of them . . . and more. Are you ready? . . . Let's go . . . . . . . to follow my blog posts, you need to click on the small icon next to the 'Praxis' icon (top left hand side) where you will get the blog post listing |
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My name is Lina Mookerjee and I am a storyteller - through my work as an educator, psychotherapist, yoga teacher/trainer, traveler, cruise lecturer, writer, micro film-maker and carer. I welcome you to this sanctuary space - to be stimulated, entertained, inspired, challenged and empathised with. Archives
February 2016
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