Angels in the Architecture (21 page)

‘I think the world becoming happier is one part of our evolution
– our spiritual evolution. I think it’s about our ability to rise above our material circumstances and connect to a universal spirit. And I think a big part of that connection is that we become happier. But we have to connect to
it
– not it to us. And because it’s evolving all the time, we have to keep up. That’s what I mean when I say
happiness moves very fast
. The essence of happiness is freedom from the material – actually, I think it’s freedom from time as well, but that’s another story. So yes, that is what I’m saying. I think Tim, and many others in this world, probably have a greater ability to connect to that universal spirit of happiness than the rest of us.’

‘So we are talking
about Tim in spiritual terms ... ?’

‘It’s just a word.’

‘What is?’

‘Spiritual.’

‘All right, religious then.’

‘That’s just a word too.’

‘But you want us to believe in religion – isn’t that what you said before?’

‘I want people not to discount religion and the many possibilities it offers to learn
about God from an infinite number of metaphors and parables, from the prophets and from poets, from any number of different angles and perspectives.’

‘I think you’re contradicting yourself.’

‘I think you’re not listening.’ Loraine grinned and eyeballed Pete for the umpteenth time.

‘You’re part of an organised religion
– Christianity. Isn’t that the message you want people to get?’

‘I
think Christianity is a very coherent religion, through most of its denominations and manifestations. I don’t think there’s anything I’ve told you that
doesn’t
fit within a Christian framework. And indeed, I do think there are other very highly developed frameworks, and I mentioned some – Buddhism, Islam, the Baha’i Faith – I just happen to belong to this one. Because I do think one must make some commitment at some point. At least that was my need. And Christianity was what I knew.’

Pete looked
at Loraine, and again there was a discernible pondering going on around the table. No one seemed to want to be the first to speak, as if something of value may be dented if they did.

‘Thank you
my dear,’ Maitland said in time, as pause for thought continued.

‘Yes, indeed,’ added another
.

‘There was a lot there to think about, my dear,’ Rose
complimented Loraine. ‘You seem to have caught an essence that’s likewise capturing our friends’ hearts and minds.’

‘And souls,’
added Sally.

‘Well, you’re most welcome. I do get on my high horse occasionally, but there you are
,’ replied Loraine.

After another
pause, Maitland declared, ‘All right then, you lot. Where’s that promise of intemperance – the
real
reason we come here?’

Some chuckling about the table broke the reverie.

‘Coming right up, my dear.’ Rose smiled and got up to bring in bottles and glasses.

‘Well, I’m quite at my leisure
,’ Maitland leant back, folding his arms..

‘
Mr Bennet!’ chimed Sally and Rose at the same time.

Maitland grinned, pleased with himself, and pleased his
Jane Eyre
mimicry had got the recognition he’d wanted.

As Rose
circled the table, depositing glasses and pouring wines, smaller conversations began around the table, till a pleasant hum replaced the quiet of earlier.

‘I’ve really got something from this. Thank you,’
said Pete, turning to Loraine beside him. ‘And I feel – perhaps a little arrogantly – that you have shown me a considerable respect by choosing to look me in the eye and poke me in the consciousness as you have.’ Pete gave her a small nod.

‘Well
, I enjoy a good fish, Pete,’ said Loraine.

‘
My God,’ Maitland burst out. ‘I’ve been outdone. Usurped! How did you, Pete, manage to get this woman to come out guns blazing? That has hitherto been my preserve alone. I salute you.’

There was l
aughter all around.

‘My shout then?’ Maitland proffered.

There was more laughter.

‘Oh no, you don’
t, Maitland,’ Rose said, starting to pour. ‘You heard what Pete said before. Heaven knows what state you got him into last time he was here. If it’s some imbibing you’re after, there’s plenty here. Just you stay there, Pete. And you, Maitland.’

‘Well
said, Rose,’ Pete added. ‘Well said. Be a dear and pass that red down here.’

Pete helped himself to a couple of glasses and poured
for Loraine and himself..

‘You’ve given me a great deal,’ he offered
to Loraine. ‘Thank you. I need to figure out what that means in practise now. And for Tim.’

‘Well, you must start with
you,
Pete,
I
think.’

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t use your head too much. This isn’t about working out what you believe. This is about opening yourself to possibilities. I don’t believe we should sit down and make a list of what we believe any more than I think one should decide to believe just what someone else tells them. The greatest gift we give our children is that there is a big, wide world of people and cultures and beliefs, and they should explore all of that.’

‘But you’ve also said we should make a commitment,’ Pete replied.

‘Yes, in due course. But first be open, and investigate the truth. You don’t have to accept what I say. I’m simply making an offering from my experience,’ Loraine stated.

‘A particularly valid experience
,’ Pete added.

‘Well I
like to think so, yes – probably. I’ve spent a lifetime exploring these things, so I do think I can assist others, but by way of ideas not by reciting doctrine.’

‘Well, thank you again.’

‘Thank you, Pete.’ Loraine smiled and raised her wine glass in mock salute.

Friday,
5 June 1981

Tim being very autistic today. Spent large parts of the day looking out the corner of his eye. Seems unsettled. Not my smiling, laughing boy. Guess he’s got to work on catching up with happiness too sometimes.

They’re reporting on a new disease affecting gay men; it’s called AIDS – can’t remember what it stands for. Churches already saying it’s the wrath of God – spoil sports.

Still thinking about last trip
to Rose and Loraine’s. Complex and hard to put one’s finger on it. Think I need to let go of all that for a while. Besides which there is enough to be dealing with here. I think I confuse my relationship with everyone around me by considering all of that. Tim’s basic needs are the most important. Love and warmth. Food and survival. Maslow’s hierarchy. Simple stuff. I’m barely up to more than that myself. Bit more warmth’d be a good thing.

Saturday,
13 June 1981

Timmy had a better week. Did another amazing painting the other day. Spent ages on it again. Lots of red. Not sure if that means anything. How would you know? He had other colours to use but did it mostly in red – few wee bits of black and yellow. It was very striking. The whole page was covered. Which in itself is interesting – most kids his age do a blob in the middle, but not him. And very concentrated about it too, he was.

Bloody Queen’s been shot at ‘n’ all, at Trooping the Colour – blanks though – bet it freaked a few horses out – HM seemed rather cool about it. Good on her.

Marcus Serjeant
was the idiot. Interestingly, he said he’d been inspired by the assassination of John Lennon last year, and the attempts made on the lives of Ronald Reagan and the Pope this year. He was apparently rather excited about the fame Mark David Chapman secured after killing John Lennon, and after John Hinckley’s attempt on Reagan he said he fancied being the first one to take a pot shot at the Queen. He was just a teenager.

Sunday, 14 June 1981

Seven members of
the Baha’i spiritual assembly in Hamadan in Iran were executed by firing squad today, following two years of persecution by the new Islamic regime there. When their bodies were later prepared for their funeral, it was apparent that six of them had been tortured as well. What’s wrong with this World? How can a peaceful Faith such as this pose such a threat to Islam? I think so far the Baha’is represent the only major religion
not
to have killed others in God’s name.

Thursday, 18 June 1981

Went
to Rose and Loraine’s again this evening. Someone back from some meditation retreat talking about meditation generally and what it feels like. Discussion about light and about connecting with God. Someone brought up this thing about Tim ‘talking to the Angels’. Someone else launched into a monologue about the hierarchy of Angels. Didn’t really get it. Loraine lent me a book on the way out.

Seems all the world’
s Holy Writings have a lot to say about Angels. In Islam, malaikah means ‘belief in Angels’ and the word is mentioned a hundred times in the Qur’an. There’s a hierarchy of Angels, and the Islamic version of this is very similar to the Judaeo-Christian tradition. Angels as such are actually the lowest order in nine tiers, the next is Archangels, all the way up to Cherubim and Seraphim. They all have their different roles and responsibilities, having to do with maintaining order in Heaven, on Earth, and in the Universe generally. God’s Energy is strongest in the higher levels of Angels – so strong that we mere mortals can’t discern them. So it’s up to the lower levels – the Archangels and Angels – to act as intermediaries between Heaven and Earth. These are the Angels that interact most frequently with humans and carry prayers towards God. Mystics in all the traditions believe it is our communion with these figures that brings us into the presence of God. Some of us would prefer to view this talk of Angels as imagery, symbol, and metaphor
.

Anyway
, my favourite bit in the book was this quote from Chesterton that I’d not read before: ‘Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly’. How lovely is that?

Which reminded me of my favourite bit
of Chesterton: ‘The world is divided into Conservatives and Progressives. Progressives go on making mistakes and Conservatives prevent the mistakes from ever being corrected.’ Well, I guess mistakes in the name of progress is at least something. Aren’t we supposed to learn from them?

Wednesday, 29 July 1981

Royal bloody wedding –
otherwise-thought-of-as-sane people going very gaga. Can’t stand it. What is that obsession? It seems on the increase. Is it the fairytale? I guess so. Shame there’s no such thing. As no doubt the poor royal sods will find out for themselves. Dear, oh dear. Who would choose such a thing?

As a juxtaposition,
the Springboks are touring New Zealand and causing all sorts of mayhem. A match was cancelled in Hamilton the other day, in front of a full crowd, after several hundred protestors invaded the field. Apparently, there were rumours of a light plane being stolen and heading for the stadium. The Springboks beat Taranaki today, but the real tour action was outside Parliament. Kiwi police used batons on protestors. The news quoted Norman Kirk’s (former prime minister) prediction ten years ago that a South African tour of New Zealand would cause ‘the greatest eruption of violence this country has ever known’. Now there’s a little prescience for you.

My life is disturbingly unromantic and uneventful. Disturbing? Perhaps too strong a word. Partly I like it that way. Partly I’ve chosen it
, I suppose.

Sent off a cynical piece on the state of
the English psyche but can’t imagine any responsible editor wanting to print it – not what sells
.

Life continues here along the usual furrows and fissures – Tim
being Tim, Jillie growing up, Alicia obviously stuck (i.e. not growing up), me being a pain in the arse for her – apparently. One does try. Or maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m as stuck in being as unresponsive as she is. I don’t know any more what she wants from me, and I’m terrified to ask. It all seems a little pointless. What though is my responsibility in all this? What is my obligation to her? And to myself?

I wonder if she’s thought about leaving. I suspect she has.
Having Tim makes it harder of course. What man or woman would with conscience leave their spouse with an autistic child, or take one in tow on one’s own?

I’m being very negative.

I wonder about the impact of the space she’s in, on Tim and Jillie. She has no relationship to speak of with either of them at the moment. Do they feel that as a loss, some gap? Does her anger bear down on them in any way? Stop them from growing, from feeling free?