Not so long ago I did something which, for me, was extremely dangerous. I publicised this blog on my Facebook feed. I never put much up on that as I find it more useful to keep up with what some of my friends are up to among the dross and password seeking polls or quizzes. And I must admit one or two time when I have commented on something in my lighthearted usual way it has not gone down well – or more likely simply been misunderstood.
So, why was it dangerous for me? One of those people I follow is quite open about the depression he suffers from and shares his dark times often. Years ago a good doctor got me to accept that I shared that illness and even helped me to see the trigger event that brought the ‘black dog’ to my door. It was rejection. So putting something into a public forum, particularly on line, exposes me to more of the same and threatens to drive me down.
As it happens there have been no adverse, rejective, comments – so far. But one or two of those that did post a reply also made suggestions of how I could further expand my audience. What struck me about those replies was that they suggested that I should contact another person to tell them about what I was doing. I’m left wondering why, if they thought that was a good idea, they didn’t just forward the link to that person themselves. I mean, after all, it’s just a couple of clicks.
Then I recalled an incident from a few years back. I’d gone to speak with a church leader to discuss a possible performance of ‘Boy From the Boro’ at one of the churches under his care. I’d not spoken directly to him before but he was aware of the things I did having heard good reports from others. As it happened we couldn’t get the diaries to match up so that performance never happened. However, it is something he said that echoed down the ages.
He told me that someone else – a good friend of mine – had described me as having a talent that needed to be nurtured. Leaving aside whether that is true or not – because I have always done what I felt I had to do when it comes to the creative side of my life – why didn’t my friend provide that nurture? Having heard that why didn’t the minister who told me that offer to help my growth and development?
Let’s be clear I did not obsess about then and it only comes back into my mind every now and then – particularly when I am struggling to see the best way forward from time to time. Luckily I have been gifted with one or two people who do help me question my more dubious decisions. But, as with many others, I’ve not seen them as often as I would have liked or needed during these strange and unusual times.
Those times will also explain the heading for this reflection – and the image that accompanies it.
More and more it seems – although we are still waiting for the ‘official independent enquiry’ – that those who make the rules are among the first to break them. Trips for eye tests at Barnard Castle, Christmas quizzes at non social distances, preparation to explain away events that they knew were wrong at a press conference that never happened, wine and cheese with wine sat around tables chatting pretending to be working, and so on, and so on. It is clear to me that those who make the rules cannot accept that they simply don’t apply to them.
And in a very small way that’s exactly the same as those who see a need or a way to tell others of something that might be of interest to them but take no action. There is a general reluctance to take risks. But it is those same risks that helps us grow as individuals and as a people. We need to encourage risk takers and support them, particularly if things go wrong. Nurture them even. We need to do that and not delegate it someone else.
Don’t just say it – do it.
The Unconventional Disciple 