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Letter From The Highlands
February,
2004
By Anne Perry
I apologise for
the last letter being late. Actually I sent it a week early and
it got ‘lost in space’. I did not resend it because I did not know
it had not arrived. We must get a better system devised.
This one too will be early. So much has happened, and the mountain of work
ahead of me is a veritable Everest. I have two books to turn in,
final drafts, by April 1st. That is, they must be on
the desk of my editor in New York, so they must leave here about
March 20th. The 520 page one is completed, first draft,
and the second draft should not be too difficult. The other, roughly
150 Pages, I have not done more than the outline so far. And I
am going to Leipzig in Germany at the end of March, so I must prepare
for that also. It is business, of course, but should be most interesting.
I have been to Germany two or three times before, and always enjoyed
it enormously.
It has been a difficult winter, full of profound changes. My friends and I
have all lost people very close to us. Lewis and Sheila have lost
their father and husband respectively. He was a quiet, kind and
very decent man, and not yet seventy. Lewis has three sisters,
so that leaves him the man of the family at 23.
One of my dearest friends whom I have known for over quarter of a century, lost
her only surviving sibling – her older sister. My dear friend and
neighbour, who has helped me in work and in the friendship of life,
lost her mother two years ago, a brother last year, and a sister
this winter. And on January 19th my mother died, eleven
days before her 92nd birthday.
I was not sure how I was going to feel about it, knowing that of course it had
to come. We were very close. I feared I might find it almost impossible
to bear. Whatever you think, you cannot tell in advance how you
will feel when the time comes.
She had a stroke two years ago (Feb. 16th) and could no longer speak
except a few words, seldom strung together. I went to see her in
the nursing home four times a week, but we communicated mostly through
our eyes. I was watching her become more frustrated with herself,
and further away. I had begun to feel it was time she went on to
the next stage of existence, free from the restrictions of a body
which would no longer do as she wished, and a mind checked and imprisoned
by the inability to speak.
But still I thought that when the final break came I might grieve so deeply
it would be terribly painful.
Instead I find I am happy for her, and feel her closer to me than when she was
physically here, but mentally bound. I am so fortunate I can never
be grateful enough that I had the chance to say to her all the things
I wanted to: how much I loved her, admired her courage all her
life, how much I owed her, and tell her we will all be alright,
and so will she, and above all to thank her.
NEVER leave until tomorrow any good thing you can do today. Never leave gratitude
unexpressed, quarrels un-mended, apologies unsaid, if they are needed.
Never leave anyone unforgiven or excluded. Take all your chances
for good now. One day there will be no tomorrow to catch up. How
terrible to have to say ‘if only I had’, instead of ‘I’m so glad
I did’.
I know that is easy to say, and can be hard to do. It takes two to keep any
relationship a good one. I am immeasurably fortunate that my mother
and I were close. It does not always happen, and I certainly was
very far from perfect. I was blessed to be given so long to work
at it! Thinking on all these things, I can only be grateful.
Hollowed Deeply
Perhaps these are the times when you discover how much you really believe, and
how much you only want to! I am surprised by how blessed I am.
I asked for the Lord’s help when this time should come, and I have
received it abundantly. It must be equally available to everyone
else. We all have loss, confusion, grief, fear and pain at times.
Life is meant to be that way, or we learn far too little, and it
does not include the strength. Hard winds come and we will be torn
up at the roots. There must needs be the bitter, or there CANNOT
be the sweet. If we are hollowed deep then we can hold much joy,
or pain. If we are cut but shallowly, then we can hold little of
either. To care is to be hostage to failure, but not to care is
to deny life itself. Surely all these experiences should bind us
closer to each other?
I have just been down to see my literary agent in London, or to be more accurate,
St. Albans, which is where she lives. It was an interesting trip
down. Simon drove, as usual. We set out and had gone an hour and
a half through snow storms in the mountains of Aviemore, when my
car became very erratic and we had to turn back and pick up his
four-wheel drive vehicle, which is stronger, and better in snow
anyway.
We only got as far as Edinburgh that night, and Luton near St. Albans the next
night. It was all glittering sunshine, but behind the glass. The
terrible snow forecast did not come until the third day. Then when
we were at my agent’s house working, there were blizzards and thunder
and lightning. Very dramatic. Unfortunately we saw lots of motor
accidents, and many cars off the road.
We stayed in a hotel and walked every day on ice-caked pavements to Meg’s (my
agent is called Meg, like my friend and neighbour) every day. We
worked all morning and afternoon and most of the evening for three
days. We covered the second draft of the Victorian book, a Pitt,
the whole of the outline for the next Christmas story, worked yet
again on the outline of the third World War One book, a little on
the outline of the fourth, and threw around ideas for the next Victorian
story to be done – a Monk.
It is very stimulating to the mind to hear other ideas. Meg has the rare and
very valuable gift of making me question myself without also making
me doubt myself. And there is all the difference in the world between
those two. Doubting your own value, worth and ability is totally
destructive. If you believe you will fail, then you will never
start. Certainly you will not work and strive with energy, passion
and hope.
The Voice of Question
And yet if you never question yourself you will never learn, certainly you will
never change what is wrong or weak or simply not the best you can
be. Recently I have come to value even more intensely the voice
of question, the one who dissents and says ‘but why?’. ‘Why do
you believe this?’ or ‘I don’t see it that way’. Are you sure?
Explain it to me’. It is largely in trying to explain that I realize
why I really do believe what I do – or in many cases, I don’t!
Often I have only part of the picture, it needs adding to, or adjusting,
or something taken from it. We are all wrong sometimes. The only
real tragedy is when we are too arrogant or too cowardly to look
at something honestly and see where it needs alteration. To be
wrong now and then is human. To remain wrong when you could have
corrected it is tragic, and deeply to blame, because then it is
not honest error, it is deliberate choice.
There is no need to be unpleasant, one can question amicably and politely.
It is not fault-finding, it is not quarrelsome, it is not rude or
critical. It is honest seeking after truth. If our beliefs will
not stand up to scrutiny, then they deserve to fail. In fact they
already have.
I was obliged – or perhaps I should now truthfully say helped – to examine parts
of my stories and see where they needed to be much better, more
consistent, more emotional, more logically following on from previous
lines, more complete, more honest to human behaviour, and more compassionate.
It is exciting! To help someone become better is surely one of
the greatest gifts you can give another person?
Of course it hurts when you thought you had it right, and then are told that
it doesn’t make complete sense. But if it doesn’t, then it doesn’t!
Turning away from it fixes nothing!
Wouldn’t it be wonderful in life if we had the chance to go back and rewrite
scenes and make them better, more honest, kinder, funnier or more
generous? Or at times just to have them make sense?
But isn’t that what life is for – to do better today than we did yesterday,
and better again tomorrow? Is it not what friends are for, to help
us hold up a mirror to some of our thoughts and actions and perceive
them more clearly so we can see for ourselves where they can be
improved?
Freedom to agree is worth nothing at all. The Devil grants that. It is only
God who allows us freedom to disagree as well. That blessed voice
of dissent is the one who warns of danger, the watchman on the tower
who tells us to stop and think before it is too late.
If they who see do not warn, then we are told that our blood is on their hands.
What comfort is that, when the blood is spilled anyway? If you
are the watchman and you see the danger and cry out, then your hands
are clean. And if clean hands are your only concern, then you are
in good shape.
But surely a person worth anything is more concerned to save the lives and the
happiness of those in his care than with the state of his own hands
– i.e. conscience? Is it any comfort to you to know it wasn’t your
fault if your child is killed, or their passion, their laughter
and their happiness destroyed? Not if you love them. You want
to save them, not excuse yourself from guilt.
We must keep the voice of warning, the honest question: ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Why
do you think that, or believe it?’ ‘Have you thought of this?
Or that?’ ‘I don’t agree – explain to me!’ If you can’t, then
perhaps your thoughts need a little adjustment, or even a lot.
We all feel things wrongly sometimes, or incompletely, or add bits
that are mistaken.
Is it wise? Is it kind? Is it honest? Am I honest in saying or doing it?
Or does it just make me feel justified, superior, safe? Safety
is fine sometimes. At others it is only another name for cowardice,
for staying in the comfort zone. Or to put it differently, for
staying in Eden and accepting the Adversary’s plan to dare nothing,
risk nothing, and in the end, gain nothing - which means to lose
everything that we might have been.
Treasure the people who question you honestly, who have the courage to disagree.
They are the ones who may teach you what you most need to know –
that you were right! And why you were right. Or that you were
mistaken and need a little changing. They are friends, not enemies.
We all have to learn. They are easier teachers than a bitter experience
can be, which often comes too late, and only after painful, and
sometimes irreparable damage has been done.
A Hall of Mirrors
Can you think of a worse hell than to be shut up for ever in an endless hall
of mirrors when all you see are reflections of your own face, your
own voice, your own opinions given back to you? Is that not the
final loneliness? No one to add to your knowledge, your experience,
no face or voice that is unique and alive and different?
It is in reacting with others that we are at our best, not in admiring images
of ourselves. To love is to give, and to receive as well, to talk
and to LISTEN, not merely to wait until the other person stops speaking
so we have our turn.
There is so much to discover, to practice, through which to grow wiser
and kinder with. In Relief Society at the end of January the teacher
suddenly said that ALL relationships in life, family, friends, colleagues,
are part of the learning for that most important of all eternal
human relationships. That is a very profound thought. It leaves
no one out. It does not make those without husband or wife, without
children or without siblings or parents, feel excluded, as so many
things can do. No one needs to be without a friend, unless they
are emotionally ill, and such people are not accountable.
I telephoned Mary, the teacher, afterwards to thank her for her comment, and
her reply was simple – ‘It was not me speaking, it was the Lord!’
I felt very good about that, very right. It was such a powerful
and beautiful thought that it was instinctive to believe it. Others
I told felt exactly the same.
Perhaps it would be helpful to remember that everything we do is part of preparation
for eternity. All that you think, say or do becomes part of who
you are, and in the end who you are is all that you take forward
with you, good or bad.
Let us remember that, and make it the best we can, however many tomorrows there
are to do it better. Let’s make it a good year.
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