Botswana and the Art of Harmony

I have become spiritual recently.

This is not the first time of course. There was that brief period after a Christian camp in Year Five where I used to write passages out of the Bible. That lasted three days until my sister asked me what they actually meant, at which I drew a blank. I thought one was meant to read passages from the Bible without knowing what they meant; from what I had seen that was the entire basis of Christianity.

There was also that time in high school when I went through my Lord of the Rings faze. I used to try to pray to Elvish gods and spirits. It makes me cringe to think of it now, but back then I guess I was just looking for something to believe in.

I have been feeling the need for spirituality for a while now. Everyone needs something to believe in – it’s what makes us human, as Terry Pratchett has pointed out. Without belief there is just chaos. We believe in things such as justice, morality, society - even though they are just concepts made up by humans to stop us descending into utter madness. Look at me; I haven’t believed in anything truly for years, and I’m as mad as a haddock.

                                                                      

There’s also the fact that I need inner peace. I stress and worry far too much, and get wound up easily. Especially at work. Ask my friend; I fire him at least twice a day.

I made some attempts last week to find peace by reading a large, hardback copy of a collection of writings by Kahil Gibran entitled The Art of Harmony. It’s deep, it’s poetic and, when the tranquillity fades, it can also be used to bludgeon people to death with. Inner peace, it seems, is pretty hard to come by – especially when you work in hospitality.

However, this week I have rediscovered someone who has always been able to speak straight to my heart and my soul. She is Mma Ramotswe; owner of Botswana’s first Ladies Detective agency, and the fictional creation of Scottish writer Alexander McCall Smith.

The brilliant thing about her is that (despite the fact she is fictional) she is human. She tries to see the good in human nature, the beauty in the world around her and the joy in everyday experiences. But she also knows that sometimes to be human is to think bad things about people you don’t like, or get impatient or feel generally negative. As long as these thoughts don’t overwhelm your life it is possible to be a happy, peaceful person yet still be human.

To be fair, Christianity and the little I have seen of Islam espouses the same principals. The whole notion of forgiveness and atonement acknowledges that to err is human, although the Church in reality is a little less forgiving. And Kahil Gibran states that just because someone is not always good or kind it doesn’t make them bad, and you cannot have joy without sorrow or sorrow without joy.

It’s new religions and ideologies – Buddhism, Zen, etc. – which make life a bit harder.

I tried to become Buddhist this year. I wanted to think good thoughts about my fellow man. I wanted to view them with compassion and understanding. I really did. But thinking nice things about your fellow man is harder than it seems, especially when your fellow man cuts you off when you’re trying to merge, or talks loudly on their phones while you’re on the train, or rings you just as you sit down to dinner in order to offer you ‘an exciting business opportunity’. Let’s face it; there is nothing more annoying than our fellow man. So reasonably, how can Buddhists expect us to look upon others with calmness and love all the time? Buddha may have taken these annoyances in his stride, but at least God partook in a good smiting once in a while.

That’s why I love Mma Ramotswe. There are people she can’t stand. There are people who annoy her, who she thinks are rude. But she treats them with the same respect as she would any other human being. That, I think, is a more realistic model for harmony; there are people on this planet who are just plain bad or horrible or at the very least irritating. But at the end of the day we’re all human and we all have to live on the same planet so it’s worth making allowances for each other’s faults.

But furthermore, she enjoys the simple pleasures in life. The long awaited rains which bring life to Africa. Blue skies and gentle birds. Slowing down and taking time to notice the things around you. Sitting on her veranda drinking red bush tea. For, as she often says of anything life throws at us:

“Tea, of course, made the problem seem smaller.”

Amen to that.