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! 

Joining in with memes

There have been quite a few memes on the blogs I usually read lately and I have really enjoyed reading them. I always like finding out about other people even in the rather shorthand way that memes provide.

When I had read a few I really wanted to join in but in general memes are spread around by tagging and it is against the rules to answer the questions if you haven’t been tagged. I am not by nature a rule-breaker so I stayed quiet – but kept reading of course.

Eventually I began to feel like my much younger self, standing in the school playground waiting to be picked for a team, being left until last and too shy to put my hand up and say “Me me too”. So I was really happy to come across Robin’s Meme of fives which she was too tired to tag and so left open. I replied to it – although perhaps I should have put it here rather than in a comment – I’m new to all this!

Failing to turn inside out?

Once upon a time, well in 1994 actually, I set out on a journey round Britain Yearly Meeting as a Joseph Rowntree Fellow with a project called ‘What canst thou say?’ I was trying to reintroduce Friends and others to the tradition of spiritual autobiography, not just as an historical exercise but as a way of sharing our different spiritual journeys with one another.

Eventually I wrote a book about the fellowship called Turning inside out, a title that expressed what for me seemed the most important part of the exercise. I was trying to encourage Friends to look inside themselves and think about their spiritual journey, then to write about it and eventually to turn the inside out and share that spiritual autobiography with others in whatever way and at whatever time seemed right for them. I also stressed that it was equally important to listen to others’ stories even if they were very different from our own.

When I started out I was reacting to what I saw as a sense of isolation among British Friends and a lack of opportunity to share our spiritual journeys with one another. More than one person told me that the only time they were given such an opportunity was when they were visited after they applied for membership!

I continued giving the workshops for nearly ten years after the fellowship ended but although what I had to say was generally well received I ended with a sense of failure. It seemed to me that people were happy with the first steps, looking at their spiritual autobiography and even writing it for themselves, but that turning inside out and sharing it with others, as well as listening to others’ different experience was much more difficult.

Certainly over the years the practice of spiritual autobiography has become much more widespread, particularly in America and through blogging, but I still feel that there is a problem with British Friends. Perhaps we really are more reserved and uncomfortable with personal disclosure. Perhaps it is tied up with our increasing individualism and the idea that anything goes. If we are not looking for a way to draw together and discern a way forward as a group, if we are only looking for other like-minded people to feel comfortable with, then we do not have to acknowledge our differences and can dismiss the ‘other’.

When I came across the convergent conversation in the blogosphere I felt an excitement and hope that I had not felt for some time. I thought that what I had tried to do before had failed but that now perhaps what I need to do is to ask the questions of British Friends again, to encourage them to make connections in love with the ‘difficult’ people and beliefs in their own yearly meeting and in the rest of the Quaker world.

Words from the past

One of the things I am doing in my retirement is transcribing four volumes of manuscript journals written between 1825 and 1880 by the Quaker Mary Bevan Waterhouse (1805-1880), mother of eight children including the architect Alfred Waterhouse. They are mainly concerned with her spiritual life as an evangelical Quaker and recorded minister in 19th century Britain but also give insights into her family and social life.

I came upon this manuscript while working in the Special Collections of Reading University Library and was really excited to find that it still existed. I had read the extracts that had been privately published by her son Edwin in 1907 but in his preface he said that he intended to destroy the original as it was no longer needed! I am so glad he had not done that and that Mary’s handwritten exercise books, bound later into 4 volumes, had been presented to Reading in 1968.

I am working through the manuscript slowly, going to the reading room about one day a week, and transcribing in chronological order. So far I have got to 1847. I expected to find the task interesting, to find out more about 19th century Quakers and Quakerism. I expected that what I read would fit in with my long-standing interest in spiritual autobiography. What I didn’t expect was that Mary would speak to me personally.

Mary has a lot to say about being thankful for God’s mercies and often rejoices in the loving-kindness of the Lord. I know that I too have much to be thankful for and that I need to be more mindful of this loving-kindness in my life. The last time I was working on her diary Mary was anxious about the safety of her children when they were away from her and reminded herself to leave them with confidence in the care of God. My two sons, aged 29 and 25, are about to go travelling round the world for a year and I needed Mary’s words myself.