Many suggestions were put to King George V as how best to acknowledge the first anniversary of the ending of World War 1. Some thought triumphant music should be commissioned, others poetry, others religious services, some thought special prayers, some speeches. And there was mention of a custom that had originated in South Africa, of keeping a two minute silence of commemoration and remembrance.

The King was advised by many and pressed by some; principally by the United Kingdom and Dominion Governments, but also by ecclesiastical authorities of every kind. Most proposed a form of words.

The King chose the silence.  

The King shunned any form of triumphalism and was as strongly resistant to wordiness. He remarked to a friend and courtier that he merely wished people of every kind all over the Kingdom and beyond, simply to pause, to think, to reflect, and to feel – in whatever manner they chose, in a silence which was both theirs and everyone’s.

A statement was issued by Buckingham Palace on November 9^th 1919.

To all my people, Tuesday next, 11 November, is the first anniversary of the armistice, which stayed the world-wide carnage of the four preceding years and marked the victory of right and freedom.
     I believe that my people in every part of the Empire fervently wish to perpetuate the memory of that great deliverance and of those who laid down their lives to achieve it.
     To afford an opportunity for the universal expression of this feeling it is my desire and hope that at the hour when the Armistice came into force, the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, there may be for the brief space of two minutes a complete suspension of all our normal activities.
     During that time, except in the rare cases where this may be impracticable, all work, all sound, and all locomotion should cease, so that, in perfect stillness, the thoughts of everyone may be concentrated on reverent remembrance of the glorious dead.
     No elaborate organisation appears to be necessary.
     At a given signal, which could easily be arranged to suit the circumstances of each locality, I believe that we shall all gladly interrupt our business and pleasure, whatever it may be, and unite in this simple service of silence and remembrance.
           GEORGE R.I. 

In asking for silence the King offered a space to listen, to hear, and to share. Nothing further was mandated and no reaction presumed or required. 

In the silence there is the opportunity to listen to our hearts and thoughts and to enter the Eternal.

As we gathered up our coats and bags after Strength and Balance at the Castle Centre this morning we chatted. There were seven of us today. Eight if you included Jeff our instructor. We all agreed that we benefitted from the session. We also all agreed that we could perfectly well spend an hour a day at home doing the same exercises. And we all admitted that we don’t. 

The question was, ‘Why not?’

 It turned out that some of us do a few exercises most days. Some do a few exercises sometimes. One said she didn’t do any, ever. Yet we all agreed that we knew we benefitted from the classes. Strength and Balance classes cost us nothing. They are provided by the National Health Service. They  are an effort to get to and sometimes we are not in the mood, but they help.

The consensus was that we needed the motivation that comes from being part of a group and that we liked the company. 

I’m reminded of those wise old clergy of the past who, when people asserted, “I don’t need to go to Church. I can worship God just as well at home, or in my garden, or enjoying beauty,” would reply, “Perhaps you could – but do you? And how often?”

And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him. Genesis II. xviii 

“I am always ready to learn although I do not always like being taught”

Winston Churchill

Hear Hear

It was writing about choice that reminded me.  In the mid 1960s I first met Dame Edith Evans. I can’t remember how, where or why. She was in her seventies, one of the greatest actresses of her generation, I was in my twenties and training to be a priest. Over time we talked about many things but especially theatre and priesthood.

The conversation I remember most clearly was when she was telling me the importance of working from the inside out and not from the outside in. She told me that many people imagine that actors ‘put on’ a character as they put on their stage make up – that they ‘put on’ the character from the exterior appearance and outward mannerisms. 

She said that it didn’t work like that. Rather, she said, that you find the character from inside yourself. 

“They’re all there,” she said. “You just have to find them.”

And she added, with some force, “That is why I have never played that loathsome woman.”      

We had been talking Shakespeare and I knew the ‘loathsome woman’ was Lady Macbeath. 

“She is there within me,” Dame Edith said, “But I choose not to find her.”

I arrived back in London on Sunday after a most enjoyable two week cruise down the coasts of France, Northern Spain and Portugal. The ship, Seabourn Ovation, is excellent and the staff superb. Inwardly I used to sneer at cruises and the people who went on them. Out of ignorance.  Whence, I suspect, most sneering comes.  

By Tuesday I wasn’t feeling great and as I was going out to lunch with friends thought I ought do a covid test – the result was positive. It rather irritates me that the current English language usage chooses to apply ‘positive’ to something which is clearly negative for me. I don’t think the two are related, the cruise and the covid test. However each in their own way has shown me a positive.

While on the cruise we docked in Cobh, County Cork in Ireland, we went there as well. I went ashore to spend some time at the cathedral of St Colman. The cathedral is at the top of a hill in a commanding position. It’s a very steep climb to get there. I managed. I found coming down the paths and steps even more difficult. Near the bottom I paused to rest. 

Two young people, off duty staff from the ship, were coming up. They stropped when they saw me. The young man asked, ”You ok?“ I replied that I was and was just taking a break before walking back to the ship. He said that they would walk back with me if I would like that. I said that I would be fine and I was. The hard working staff from the ship only occasionally get the chance to go ashore. These two were cheerfully prepared to give up some precious free time for me.

Today I’ve had two phone calls from Guy’s Hospital. Yesterday i rang my GP Surgery to put them in the picture over my covid test result and they were following up that contact. The first call was to clarify how I was – basically fine. The actual question was, “How are you feeling right now?” My answer was, “In a bad mood because I was looking forward to having people to dinner and I’ve had to cancel.” He said that he was very sorry to hear that and understood my disappointment at missing people I liked. We then went on to discuss matters medical and I gave permission for my medical records to be looked at.

The second call from Guy’s was from a doctor who had looked at my medical records. She was understanding and, having assessed my situation, decided that I need simply to continue what I was doing already – paracetamol, water and rest. She also said to get in touch if things deteriorated which she thought most unlikely.

While the human animal can at times be vicious, bitter, dangerous and unkind, the latter being every bit as bad as the others, there are those who, at times, are funny, thoughtful, generous and helpful. And the interesting thing is there are bits of each in all of us. We have the choice.