How many friends do I have? Quite a few I think, although I had never been in the habit of counting them until I went on Facebook. That was a few years ago when I wanted a way of tracking the progress of my globe-trotting sons but also wanted to prove my husband wrong when he said I had no friends.
I have never been one to have crowds of close friends. I grew up as a happily solitary only child, isolated further at primary school by the fact that my father was also my headmaster. My parents tried to remedy this situation when I changed schools by sending me to an establishment in a different town, rather than to the grammer school next door to my father's new school. I made a few close friends there but it was difficult to cultivate friendships outside school because of the distance involved.
However, when I make good friends I do try to keep them and am still in touch with two women I have known since I was 10, Fleur and Liz. At university, first in Oxford and then in Birmingham, I made more close friends and have kept up sporadically with a few of them. At Oxford I also met my closest friend, Chris, and eventually married him. I also acquired some of his friends too. I have made friends at work, some closer than others. I have also made friends of Friends in many different contexts, often by working and sometimes struggling together.
What do I mean by a friend? Well for me friendship involves sharing, giving and receiving confidences, honesty and loyal support. It is also about having things in common - a place, a way of life, even a favourite television programme - but not necessarily about always agreeing with each other. A valuable part of friendship for me is the ability to speak and hear uncomfortable things from time to time, although I admit that I almost lost one friendship through being afraid of confrontation.
But is it possible to have virtual friendships, only conducted online and never face to face? I think it is and I have discovered this through reading and writing blogs and through Facebook. Many of the bloggers I read are not known to me in person although we have a friendly relationship online. After all, I can hold a conversation with them through comments as they can with me and blogging is often about sharing one's life as one would with friends in the 'real' world.
At the last count I had 264 Facebook friends. Many of them I know personally and meet quite frequently, others I have met a few times, but some I only know online. Quite a few live in different countries which makes meeting face to face even more difficult. I am very grateful for the opportunity Facebook gives me to connect a little with all their lives. Then there are the reconnections, people I have known but may have lost touch with until an unexpected 'friend request' appears.
The other week I visited my friend James in Leeds. I met him in Birmingham 40 odd (sometimes very odd) years ago and we were close friends and housemates then. I had kept in touch sporadically and went to all three of his weddings but Facebook allowed us to connect on a more day to day level which made our face to face meeting more comfortable. I look forward to deepening this friendship when we eventually move Up North.
I know what Chris meant when he said I did not have any friends. At the time I was in danger of isolating myself from the day to day contact that nourishes friendship. I hope that I am working towards correcting that and Facebook and blogging have helped me keep in touch, not only with friends but with myself.
Monday, March 07, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Wearing Labels
The Quaker meeting I am part of is a large one and it is difficult to get to know who everyone is . Our overseers have been asking us politely for some time to wear name labels to meeting and although I know this is a sensible idea I have been very resistant to it. Perhaps it is time to ask myself why.
Part of the reason lies in my last post. I am uncomfortable when asked to narrowly define myself. On that weekend, when it became obvious that I believe in God [actually I said that I know God], I was asked whether I am a deist or a theist. I have to confess that I did not understand the distinction but it appears that a theist is the more accurate description of my position. But I really don't want to wear that as a label.
On the other hand, as part of my work on spiritual autobiography, I always stress the equal importance of telling our own stories, our own truths as well as listening deeply to the stories and truths of others. To be consistent then perhaps I do have to wear some kind of label, or at least define how I self-identify myself. If I am comfortable with the way I identify myself then even if other people make the wrong assumptions about my label we have the beginning of a dialogue to pursue rather than continuing misunderstanding.
As I start to write my label I realise that it is going to have to be a large one in order to encompass the different ways in which I identify myself. I cannot say that I am different things at different times because all these labels are part of me. So I am Only Child, Mother, Granny, Partner, Friend, Worrier, Researcher, Historian, Writer, Quaker. Perhaps the Quaker label needs extending, although I am not entirely convinced of that. It could include Liberal, Conservative, Unprogrammed, Theist perhaps. Would that generate enough assumptions?
The process is a difficult one but I will attempt it. I may come back and extend my label further but as I start I will take the simple step of wearing a label to meeting on Sunday!
Part of the reason lies in my last post. I am uncomfortable when asked to narrowly define myself. On that weekend, when it became obvious that I believe in God [actually I said that I know God], I was asked whether I am a deist or a theist. I have to confess that I did not understand the distinction but it appears that a theist is the more accurate description of my position. But I really don't want to wear that as a label.
On the other hand, as part of my work on spiritual autobiography, I always stress the equal importance of telling our own stories, our own truths as well as listening deeply to the stories and truths of others. To be consistent then perhaps I do have to wear some kind of label, or at least define how I self-identify myself. If I am comfortable with the way I identify myself then even if other people make the wrong assumptions about my label we have the beginning of a dialogue to pursue rather than continuing misunderstanding.
As I start to write my label I realise that it is going to have to be a large one in order to encompass the different ways in which I identify myself. I cannot say that I am different things at different times because all these labels are part of me. So I am Only Child, Mother, Granny, Partner, Friend, Worrier, Researcher, Historian, Writer, Quaker. Perhaps the Quaker label needs extending, although I am not entirely convinced of that. It could include Liberal, Conservative, Unprogrammed, Theist perhaps. Would that generate enough assumptions?
The process is a difficult one but I will attempt it. I may come back and extend my label further but as I start I will take the simple step of wearing a label to meeting on Sunday!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Who do we think we are?
Back in January David Boulton and I facilitated a retreat with this title at Charney Manor. It was billed as a conversation on Quaker identity, unity and diversity and I was hoping for a wide-ranging exploration of the subject. In the event however most of the 25 or so participants came to explore non-theism with David and I felt myself very much in a minority. The weekend seemed to go well and I had no difficulty working with David, who I knew through a shared interest in Quaker history, but I was left feeling uncomfortable and needing to work through some of the issues that were raised for me.
As an introduction to the weekend I gave a historical overview of Quaker diversity, highlighting the changes of emphasis, different language and different orthodoxies, sometimes leading to splits and schisms, that have happened over time and which are all influences on present-day Quakerism world-wide. One of the questions I asked at the end of this was "Are we only happy to associate with 'people like ourselves'?" In the course of the weekend some answers to this question emerged which for me were profoundly uncomfortable.
First of all I had to confront my own prejudices about the non-theist position. What I heard sometimes seemed far too rational, cerebral and defined to appeal to someone with my mystical 'supernatural' approach to faith. I had to recognise that I needed to make an effort not to dismiss what I heard out of hand but to find some common ground. I believe the effort is worth making which is one of the reasons I am writing this. I believe that it is vital for the future of Quakerism that we find ways both of telling our own stories and of really listening to the stories of others. It is what the Spiritual Autobiography project that I have been working on for many years is all about. I can see the dangers of misunderstanding and division that arise when an open two-way conversation turns into a confirmation of only one way of looking at things. For example I am deeply uneasy with developments such as the website Quakerquaker's adoption of a new strap line 'Primitive Christianity Revived Again' which tends to exclude those Friends and seekers unhappy with identifying themselves in Christian terms.
At the weekend many people said how happy they were to have found others of a like mind who seemed to be going along a similar path. I understand this feeling of solidarity very well and have found it most helpful in different contexts in the past but I was worried that there was also an attitude from some that theirs was the 'right' way and that eventually the whole Society of Friends would see the truth of this. I felt isolated, alone and unheard. Even when, in a session in which David and I explored our different positions, I spoke about my Quaker faith and how I had arrived at it - a 'transcendant' experience as a young girl which much later Quaker worship helped me make sense of, my experience of God as my Inward Teacher and my hesitant attitude to conventional Christianity - I felt dismissed by some and deeply hurt by the experience, although I did not show this at the time.
I did react and challenge another example of the 'only people like us' attitude that arose in an earlier discussion, mainly because it reflected some experiences in my own meeting. Someone described a particularly 'difficult' member of their meeting who expressed views in the 'outside world' which differed profoundly from Quaker orthodoxy and from the views of most of his meeting. He was talked to about what he had said and asked to desist but he refused. The person telling the story then said "But it was alright eventually because he resigned and left the meeting." There have been several members of my meeting over the years who have been perceived by some as 'difficult' for various reasons and I have often heard private conversations in which a wish was expressed that they would 'just go away and leave us alone'. I am profoundly unhappy with this attitude, partly because it tries to deny that conflict exists in Quaker meetings and partly because perhaps one day I might be perceived as the 'difficult' person. My experience at the weekend only made that seem more likely so I had to question the assumptions underlying the story.
Is diversity a danger to Quakerism or can it be a strength? While recognising a natural tendency for people to seek out others who they perceive to be like themselves I hope that we can also find ways to listen to and respect one another's viewpoints. This is not the same as agreeing with what everyone says and it is equally important to tell our own stories and state what we have found to be true without being paralysed with worry that what we say will upset someone else. If I have learned anything from my experience at this weekend it is that love is the key and that we need to 'attend to what love requires of' us. Unless we learn to do this the silence of meeting for worship will not unite us by leading us to the source of that love but will become a dead space out of which we cannot grow.
As an introduction to the weekend I gave a historical overview of Quaker diversity, highlighting the changes of emphasis, different language and different orthodoxies, sometimes leading to splits and schisms, that have happened over time and which are all influences on present-day Quakerism world-wide. One of the questions I asked at the end of this was "Are we only happy to associate with 'people like ourselves'?" In the course of the weekend some answers to this question emerged which for me were profoundly uncomfortable.
First of all I had to confront my own prejudices about the non-theist position. What I heard sometimes seemed far too rational, cerebral and defined to appeal to someone with my mystical 'supernatural' approach to faith. I had to recognise that I needed to make an effort not to dismiss what I heard out of hand but to find some common ground. I believe the effort is worth making which is one of the reasons I am writing this. I believe that it is vital for the future of Quakerism that we find ways both of telling our own stories and of really listening to the stories of others. It is what the Spiritual Autobiography project that I have been working on for many years is all about. I can see the dangers of misunderstanding and division that arise when an open two-way conversation turns into a confirmation of only one way of looking at things. For example I am deeply uneasy with developments such as the website Quakerquaker's adoption of a new strap line 'Primitive Christianity Revived Again' which tends to exclude those Friends and seekers unhappy with identifying themselves in Christian terms.
At the weekend many people said how happy they were to have found others of a like mind who seemed to be going along a similar path. I understand this feeling of solidarity very well and have found it most helpful in different contexts in the past but I was worried that there was also an attitude from some that theirs was the 'right' way and that eventually the whole Society of Friends would see the truth of this. I felt isolated, alone and unheard. Even when, in a session in which David and I explored our different positions, I spoke about my Quaker faith and how I had arrived at it - a 'transcendant' experience as a young girl which much later Quaker worship helped me make sense of, my experience of God as my Inward Teacher and my hesitant attitude to conventional Christianity - I felt dismissed by some and deeply hurt by the experience, although I did not show this at the time.
I did react and challenge another example of the 'only people like us' attitude that arose in an earlier discussion, mainly because it reflected some experiences in my own meeting. Someone described a particularly 'difficult' member of their meeting who expressed views in the 'outside world' which differed profoundly from Quaker orthodoxy and from the views of most of his meeting. He was talked to about what he had said and asked to desist but he refused. The person telling the story then said "But it was alright eventually because he resigned and left the meeting." There have been several members of my meeting over the years who have been perceived by some as 'difficult' for various reasons and I have often heard private conversations in which a wish was expressed that they would 'just go away and leave us alone'. I am profoundly unhappy with this attitude, partly because it tries to deny that conflict exists in Quaker meetings and partly because perhaps one day I might be perceived as the 'difficult' person. My experience at the weekend only made that seem more likely so I had to question the assumptions underlying the story.
Is diversity a danger to Quakerism or can it be a strength? While recognising a natural tendency for people to seek out others who they perceive to be like themselves I hope that we can also find ways to listen to and respect one another's viewpoints. This is not the same as agreeing with what everyone says and it is equally important to tell our own stories and state what we have found to be true without being paralysed with worry that what we say will upset someone else. If I have learned anything from my experience at this weekend it is that love is the key and that we need to 'attend to what love requires of' us. Unless we learn to do this the silence of meeting for worship will not unite us by leading us to the source of that love but will become a dead space out of which we cannot grow.
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