The photo above shows my mother Patricia (2nd R, checkered swimsuit) and my two older siblings Sian and Bryn at play in Jamaica back in the 50s. Presumably my father Gerry was taking the photo. I see glamourous Aunt Joan (back, glasses) and I think that’s Uncle David. Whenever my father Gerry talked about Jamaica in the 50s, I was envious of that time. He described a movement of great changes in that land, where the fight for equality and education took over his life. He talked about his pupils and the kids coming from the bush seeking an education which of course he would give them, gladly taking on all and sundry. He fought all of his life in the field of education for all children to have access to learning and he spent the last 12 years of his life with CEN (Communities Empowerment Network) fighting to have excluded and expelled children put back in school and full time education. 70hrs a week at 84 years of age was nothing to my dad Gerry! Time for him was disciplined and filled with commitment, honour and his word.
Looking back on when I was small, time seemed more relaxed then. Watching the great Anthony Hopkins play C S Lewis in a film yesterday, time even allowed for one to be sick as so witnessed when wife Joy Gresham falls ill with cancer. The film showed a moment in our history where life seemed slower, more in tune with the surroundings and when Joy passes away I felt a sense of “holding the time” to enable the moment to pass, albeit with grief and suffering, but that too eventually passed for Jack and Douglas.
I have been silent these past few days, on my own, reflecting about life and more especially how it used to be when I was small. I have been experiencing a few days where time hasn’t mattered and I haven’t been led by the clock to determine my next step.
Recent world events are so quick to pass that in a matter of weeks, children and their families are being massacred in a matter of moments. One minute playing ball, the next moment bloodshed, hysteria, suffering giving way to more in a matter of moments. No time to stop, remember or grieve. No time now until the next moment of madness.
When did it come to pass that even in death we decided there should be no time to acknowledge it?
And now? The world has gone mad, quite simply mad. The moment of madness has passed into more madness, into hysteria, with more bloodshed, more cocktails sipped over arms deals, more money made hand over fist, more corruption, more injustice, more people asleep to their own hearts and minds, more blindness. We are all guilty. Why you ask? Because we are fighting with our brothers and sisters over whose opinion is right! The bottom line is people are dying and this is not right. People are being killed before our eyes. People are being given no time to live and no time to die. And whilst this goes on over there, we are fighting over who is right over here.
The time has come to peacefully acknowledge our own hearts and ask for forgiveness for our arguments, for our buying into the hate and the hurt that the puppeteers prefer we get sucked into. Stand back, observe our own thoughts – are they clean, do they hate the “other side” – and then steer our mind in a postive manner. More anger and hate will not help the situation there or here.
What can we do? Pray for peace. Send positive thoughts to the lost souls who govern our world and pray that they find somewhere in their hearts to start doing the right thing. Send loveful thoughts to the souls that have passed, all of them, and send them to the light. It’s hard, I know, which is why I have had to come inside myself these past few days to examine my own heart. I apologise for my judgement and my righteous opinion.