Holiday Snaps

I haven't been eager to cross-promote my activities, to use the marketing jargon, but this seems like a reason to link two of them. Some may know that I have an alternative site based around my pictures, and those who care to see where I've been can look at the following:

Perpignan Photo Gallery

At least there's no obligation, unlike the traditional holiday photo slideshow!

Attitude Update

Well, the blog hasn't died yet. I think it may be more a case of easing off and mentally recalibrating its content.

It's been three months since I stopped going to the brethren's meetings, and by the time the quarter-year in my own home has passed, I will be another year older. Although life continues to move fast, I am beginning to feel as though the routine aspects are getting under control, and I no longer have to expend quite so much mental effort just on scheduling.

These days I don't throw so much veg away, and since I discovered steaming (which suits single-person cooking very well, as does a frying pan), I've hardly used frozen veg either. I've been gently shown that laminate floors are better wiped than vacuumed. And the ironing board is much better near the stereo, even if it is less than ideal to have it in the living room. Somehow or other all the jobs that need doing get done in the gaps of time there are.

I think, too, that after this month ends I will have a good idea of my monthly finances. I've been logging all my outgoings, and categorising them (a chore, but vital right now), so that now the initial frightening pile of expenses has receded, I can see what it really costs to live. That, in turn, allows me to plan sensibly for the future.

There seems to be a reasonable sum left after essentials, which is just as well because I have a good many things to save for. That's where the planning will soon have to start. Work, travel, buying property instead of renting. Expensive things, and there will need to be trade-offs.

Besides, now the big leap from brethren to ex-brethren has happened, and I haven't cracked under the strain (my osteopath told me the tension she's been used to treating is almost gone), I should be turning my attention to new and positive achievements. Maybe posting them here will help to make them goals instead of dreams.

Nearing the End?

It may be time to face facts and realise that my blog is dying.

This writing has always been a cathartic activity, with posts forming themselves out of concerns and thoughts that would otherwise keep rushing around my brain with no exit. It has also been emotional, and solitary, as it has been a journey that to a large extent had to be travelled alone.

Now, to my surprise, I find that there are good people in the world, people who can be true friends, who can have a call on my time and a tug at my thoughts, and be a fulfilment in themselves. I shouldn't be surprised, and on a surface level I'm not, but somewhere deep down I did think I was solitary, and that I would always feel a little outside the happy enjoyment that others seem to get together. It isn't so.

But with my thoughts on happier things, it's harder to feel strongly enough to post entries about my old life, and the new life involves others and is therefore more private. I have to ask myself on that account what purpose the blog serves. Is it worth continuing? Will it dwindle, as appropriate topics occur to me less and less often, or should I just move on? The questions may well answer themselves, but it's something to ponder.

Guilt Trip

Some days ago, I thought I would write about guilt, responding to a comment that made me realise what a key component it is in brethren life, and just how much it can hang on afterwards.

Since then, life has been busy in a number of ways. Obviously I have had to catch up with assorted chores that didn't get done while I was away. I have also been writing about last weekend while it's fresh in my mind. Above all, though, I have been savouring real life. And real life is an obstacle course without a map, or any kind of instructions. I have been navigating by feel.

That, rather than adherence to a given doctrine, has always been my guide. My concept of - for want of a better word - sin, has generally revolved around damage to others, although I wouldn't be so foolish as to restrict it to that. I am deeply uncomfortable with acts that hurt people. And that uncomfortableness, watched for, acts as my guide to moral behaviour. I dare say many people would say the same, however they identify it, and that's the basis of what Christians know as the conscience. So, for me, long experience has told me that there are many things I have been told are wrong which don't give me that signal, and I find I am unable to take such teachings seriously. Consequently I am untroubled by guilt when I ignore those teachings, except in so far as the actual crossing of the boundary hurts somebody who feels differently.

My observation suggests that there are many ex-brethren who have found that difficult. I'm not sure why.

Brethren morality is very firmly rooted in authority. Right and wrong are too important to be left to individual judgement, and are decided somewhere on high and handed down. As a result, the first among sins is disobedience - not necessarily the most evil of sins, but the one that gets the most attention. So brethren grow up with a sense that not doing as they're told is inherently wrong, and there are so many things they are told that there must always be something they are falling short in. And therefore there is a constant low-level feeling of guilt at all times, ready to ripen into a more severe emotion whenever some rule is definitively flouted. To quote a saying from a film last night: "Beat your wife every morning. If you don't know why, she does." That, apart from the violence, fits with the brethren's mindset.

The tendency, when removed from the obligation to pay attention to this multitude of rules, is to go one of two opposite directions: either throw out everything one has ever been taught, or keep it lurking in the background. The first is dangerous, and the second damaging, yet the middle course is a very difficult balancing act. Obviously some brethren teachings have a sound moral basis, and are useful and important as a guide to life. Many don't, and aren't. It's one thing to decide in one's head which is which, and another to really feel it, so as to be comfortable with the difference, and that is complicated by long indoctrination that one ought always to feel a bit guilty about something, because one cannot be already perfect.

I suppose, in my case, that is the virtue of having come to leaving by a long and gradual route. I suspect that the suddenness of the change made life very difficult for many. But as for me, I can honestly say that the only thing which brings guilty feelings in me is knowing that my family are hurt by the fact that I feel differently. And really, I wouldn't want to harden my heart to that one because it would mean losing my understanding of them.

Back from a Short Holiday

Where to begin? What to include? How much is relevant?

Difficult questions. Nobody likes to hear unending tales of somebody else's holiday, and besides, my purpose here is to document my view of brethren life and my leaving of it, not just pour out anything and everything of what I do. Having agonised that far, I will say that I feel much richer for having been away. There are parts of life that were closed to me, aspects I only dimly knew existed, and taking a leap for a few days into a different area helps to open up the doors of perception, even if it isn't long enough to allow any claim of deep experience.

I said I was visiting the south of France. Having been, I would say that I have visited Catalonia. The signposts are in two languages, and point to Andorra and Barcelona rather than anywhere obviously French. It's a region that I can't imagine any brethren ever going to, though, even if some do live across the Spanish border.

Our base was in the centre of Perpignan, in a little street I suppose (somewhat naively) is typical of a thriving modernised medieval city on the Mediterranean. In other words, narrow, paved, with old tall buildings each side, painted assorted colours. Shutters, some open, some closed, on the windows, and balconies and roof-gardens stuffed with various items of inhabitation and festooned with washing. Oh, and wires strung all over the place. The apartment was kindly provided by a friend, and acted more as a sleeping quarters than anything more as it was stripped for redecoration. That adds to the fun, of course. My companion's mother lives mere yards away as the crow flies, on the top of the opposite side of the street, so her place was easily accessible for meals and relaxation - easily, that is, if you like stairs.

Oddly, that bit felt quite natural. I have slept in empty houses before when staying away, as weekend-long special meetings among the brethren often require every spare space to be used.

I won't detail everything we did, but anyone interested can always look up the following:

- Le Canigou
- Grotte des Grandes Canalettes
- Abbaye Saint-Martin du Canigou
- Villefranche
- Palais des rois de Majorque
- Arab Market
- The museum in the Castle
- Petit bus
- Canet plage

Besides all that touristy activity, there was a good bit of sociable relaxation, and one meal for the friends and extended family of my companion's mother. That took place in one of the friends' restaurant on the beachside at Canet ... while the Rugby world cup semi-final between England and France was showing on a big screen. Now that, one way and another, is a long way from being brethren-style fun. Good, though, even though I can't work up much enthusiasm for the game itself.

And, above all, it was just better than I can say to get away from everything, and enjoy good company, silly and serious talk, and get to know somebody outside the normal routine of life. That, then, is what a holiday is. I can recommend it.

Weekend in France

Well, in a real departure (in more ways than one), I am off in the morning for a weekend in the south of France. As far as I recall, I have never had a pure holiday before. How deprived I've been.

Holidays are not a brethren feature, just as fun and pleasure aren't. Everything must have a purpose, and enjoyable trips are always disguised as business, self-improvement in the form of attending special meetings, or fact-finding missions. The idea of going somewhere just because you need a break is an alien one, to be squashed if it ever shows itself. Unless the break is one required for health, of course, in which case cash will be found for the person concerned to be placed in the best possible treatment centre.

A few years ago a document was written which rapidly became part of brethren scripture, setting out the requirements for what might be termed active engagement in the fellowship. Although, having looked back at it since, I saw that it was actually quite reasonable in its demands where they were specific, there were ominous ambiguities in the language which meant I would have nothing to do with it. When all responsible males were encouraged to commit to the document publicly - encouraged to the point of obligation, at least - I held back and made clear that I would not do so. That meant I was removed from the list of people available for consideration for travel or meetings outside the normal routine, which worried me not at all. My lack of concern was considered strange in itself, as such meetings are the equivalent of holidays among the brethren, even though they're actually more stressful than daily life.

A year or two later, my suspicion was justified. Suddenly it became totally unacceptable for brethren from other countries to visit France. Apparently this is mostly because of the French attitude to "sincere Christians", which makes travel to France a deliberate trip into The World, but the culture probably doesn't help. The astonishing thing about this sudden ban was that it was tied to the document I have just mentioned. In spite of having absolutely nothing in it which could be interpreted as having anything to say about visiting particular countries, disapprovingly or otherwise, it was held to be so obvious to any well-meaning person that travel to France was incompatible with the said document, that having done such travelling suddenly required public repentance.

I kind of expected a steady broadening of the rules based on any piece of writing taken so seriously. But this brazen non-sequitur of a commandment took my breath away.

So, no France for brethren, unless they have a really cast-iron reason.

But I'm going anyway, as my travelling companion's mother lives there, and I have no guilt whatsoever. What a stupid rule.

Social Music

I'm still feeling a little bit fuzzy from a succession of late nights. All the reasons were different - they weren't all parties! Last night, for instance, I appeared to have the opportunity of getting to bed early, and then my doorbell rang at about quarter to ten, with official visitors. Not to worry, I have a holiday coming up fast.

Friday night was especially fascinating, as I went to an Acoustic Music Club evening with a friend who performs there. As brethren evening get-togethers often seem to end up as acoustic music clubs, in effect, it made for an intriguing comparison.

The main difference, I suppose, was that in this case, the music was the point of the gathering, and everybody who was squeezed into the function room in the upstairs of a pub was there either to play or listen. For brethren, the music is just an expected part of a social gathering. Organisation and expectation tends to kill music when that's the basis. On Friday night we all faced forward and paid attention while a compere announced each performer, and they had two songs each. Brethren wouldn't think of doing it that way: it's often a struggle to get the first person to play anything, but once anyone gets going, they usually continue until there is some reason to stop, while social activity happens around them.

Thinking about it, brethren have an ambivalent relationship with music. On the one hand there is the general belief that anything enjoyable which isn't spiritual is wrong to at least some degree, and on the other there is the tradition that music belongs to God. That's a tension which makes a certain kind of oscillating approval pretty much inevitable. Singing, by brethren doctrine, is "transport" and also fellowship, and therefore hymns are a good thing. Other music has to take its chances depending on the taste of the people whose taste matters.

Back when I was much younger, with a mid-western American leadership, country was in, jazz was out, and classical was suspicious. Anyone who enjoyed classical music was too cerebral to be spiritual. Every child who could summon up the smallest amount of ability to play notes in approximately the right order learned to play an instrument, and as soon as they could render a recognisable version of a popular song were added to the unofficial roster of "people who can play". Anyone who could actually play enjoyably had to get used to being in demand when at any social occasion.

So the Acoustic Music Club was familiar in that way, with a variety of talent on show, the variety including the amount of talent per person. It was cosy, and it made me smile. Sometimes the feeling of mutual encouragement and social enjoyment is more important than the inherent value of the entertainment itself. Some of the performers were very good, and none of them was less than interesting.

About twenty years ago, the music among the brethren began to taper off, as the general attitude became more serious. Certainly children appeared to stop learning to play music, and those who didn't actively enjoy playing forgot what they'd learned. Those who did still play were still much in demand - if anything more so, as they became fewer in number. More recently the pendulum seems to have swung again, and teenagers are once more very serious about music. They even seem to know current songs, which is most mysterious considering they aren't allowed to listen to pre-recorded music ...

Return to the Fold

Yesterday I was asked two questions: how many brethren would leave if they felt they could, and what sort of people give up after trying the life outside and go back?

Both are really aspects of the same thing. That is, what makes someone prefer one life to the other? It's a tricky one to answer. I suspect there are as many different explanations as there are people. And although I feel relatively normal (touch wood), I keep being told I'm not typical, so I'm hesitant about extrapolating from my own experience.

I was told - tearfully - just before leaving that I wasn't "worldly" enough to survive this dreadful outside world. That presupposes that there is a certain type of character who can succeed once removed from the protection of the fellowship. I'm not sure that's entirely the case. I have the feeling that the key difference is more to do with expectations and resources than personal qualities, except in the sense that those within the brethren are shielded to some extent from the consequences of their failings, and that shielding disapppears when they leave.

My impression is that there are not as many who would like to leave the brethren as those on the outside would like to think. And, hard as it may be to imagine, there are quite a lot of people who go back into it having experienced the freedom of the alternative, and profess themselves much happier as a result.

Practicalities have a lot to do with it, I'm sure. Thinking over the various people I have known who have made the trip out and back, I realise that a good many of them made the decision to return at a time in their lives when security and support became very important. Few returnees are in middle age, for example. Younger people hit financial trouble, or social trouble of one kind or another, and rebound into the safety of what they know. That may be explicit trouble, or it may be the accumulation of feeling that they don't quite fit in to the society they wanted to. I don't think anybody would quibble if I said that there isn't the unquestioning friendship on the outside - it has to be earned to some extent, and although that makes it valuable, it also implies effort. Effort is a key point: people seem to tire of having to run their own lives. Older people get to a point in their lives, too, when predictability and social support easily outweigh any loss of freedom, especially if there is family they can be reunited with. Overall, with some exceptions, those with the means to live comfortably outside do not return to the brethren. Living comfortably, of course, means different things to different people, from material wealth to feeling loved.

This is perhaps a cynical view. No doubt there are some who come to a deep conviction that the brethren were right all along ... but mostly the conviction is layered on top of the other reasons, as far as I've seen. And, interestingly, most of the arguments used on me are practical ones, too.

Really, I do have to say that life within the brethren is easier. If you can swallow the notion that their way is best, then it's a great weight of responsibility off your shoulders not having to decide things for yourself any more. In moments of weakness, I defy anyone not to find that attractive, particularly combined with constant affirmation from a large and supportive social group.

Expectations are another aspect, I think. Some people expect life outside to be a constant party. Others see evil wherever they look. Both extremes are likely to discover more misery than they need. Normal life, outside as well as inside the fellowship, has ups and downs, and if you're inclined to look at all the negative experiences as the result of being outside, then of course you'll want to change that.

So am I going back? Well, I don't like to say "never" about anything, but I can't see it happening. I thought life after the brethren would be hard work, so I'm hoping the low points don't catch me out. It's been good so far, but I'm sure the problems will come.

The Time of My Life

It's an odd thing, but I don't have any more time than I did before.

Well, that isn't strictly true. I have more time of my own, but I have more things that need doing. Suddenly the magic underwear genie doesn't replenish the supplies any more, and food isn't there to eat unless I prepare it. The house gets gradually grubbier unless I de-grub it, and the lawn still appears to be growing in October. And the various friends aren't going to socialise with me without my personal input. Roll on the twenty-six hour day and the four-day weekend, I say.

The great thing, though, is that none of this is scheduled. Work still requires me to be there at particular times (except when I unset my alarm thinking I'm setting it, as I did last night), but the rest of my time is my own to use as I see fit. The freedom is extraordinary.

By my calculation, an average of fifty-eight hours per week of my old life required me to be in particular places, and that is a very conservative estimate of the actual time used because it doesn't take travelling into account. More to the point, though, all those activities were tied to certain times, and that meant that they dominated everything else. Work from seven in the morning to four in the afternoon, followed by a meeting at six or seven. That doesn't leave space for anything much at all, and healthy eating is only possible if there is somebody at home to make dinner.

I found myself explaining the other day just how many things I haven't done in my life by way of recreation, and in discussing it I concluded that the principal reason was that I have only ever had one afternoon per week to fit such things into, and one afternoon is always too precious to waste trying these things. The rigidity of schedule and shortage of time meant that everything had to be planned in advance if it was to happen at all.

As it is, when somebody phones to say they're in the area and can I meet them for dinner at eight this evening - as happened yesterday - I can now say "yes". And very nice too.

Mostly, the change has come as a completely unmixed relief, and I haven't looked back at all. Just once, while out on a Saturday afternoon, I have caught myself thinking "I'd better be planning to get back soon, or it'll be late enough for the family to worry", only to realise that their worry levels are now independent of my whereabouts, except that I suspect they fear I may be getting up to non-brethren-approved tricks, and they might be right.

The habit of planning evening activities around meeting times also dies hard, in that I have been used to thinking of certain nights of the week as better than others for things that need any length of time. Mondays and Wednesdays were usually the only options. And I still find myself leaving things until Wednesday when there is no reason at all to do so.

Still, if that's the most noticeable damage from a lifetime of disciplined structure, I'll count myself lucky.

The Truth

It has probably been obvious that real life is rapidly overwhelming my blogging.

Not only have I been busy, but as the way I spent my life recedes into the past, I find it harder to care about it sufficiently to document in the detail I'd like. That's a good thing of course; it's just that I didn't really think I'd begin leaving it behind so soon. I have a short page of notes for brethren-related subjects not yet covered, and I had best start to expand on them before I lose the feeling of what it was like to be involved. It's not a feeling I'm anxious to hang on to purely for the sake of writing about it.

So, firstly, I was reminded of "the Truth" by a discussion last night.

I've touched on this one before. The brethren believe that there is no such thing as a grey area. Things are either so or not so, good or evil, godly or sinful. The things which "are so" are collectively the Truth, and this is not at all the same as fact.

Generally speaking, when the Truth is referred to, what is meant is the sum total of the doctrinal and practical teachings of the brethren's leaders, with room allowed for any yet to come. That's because there is nothing so real as a revelation from above, not even a concrete reality which may contradict it. The notional entirety of everything God wishes man to know will surely be encompassed by what His representative passes on, at least before the rapidly-approaching end of time. Actual fact, while occasionally useful, is not actually important in the same way as revelation.

This attitude is necessary if one denies the existence of anything between black and white, because only the narrowest blinkers can allow such a view to persist. Real life, with all its inspiring chaos, only rarely divides so neatly, just as the integers are an infinitesimal subset of real numbers. The indefinable will always greatly outnumber the tidily true.

There are whole fields of enquiry which the brethren regard not only as unnecessary but illegitimate. Not only those studies which turn up inconvenient facts, but those which deal in the impenetrable. The Gradgrind attitude has lived on a lot longer among the brethren than elsewhere. If a question has an answer the brethren don't like, then they'll say it shouldn't be asked, and if the answer is a matter of taste or personal choice, then it isn't a question that matters. Poetry is alien to the brethren mind, as anyone who has read the introduction to their hymn book will know.

Some questions have an answer which can be known clearly. Others have answers in a range which can be known. Others have answers, but ones which cannot be known at all. Others do not have answers. And some questions make no sense to ask, though they make superficial sense in themselves. All can be valuable, but only the first and the last are acknowledged by brethren doctrine. If they cannot declare an answer by fiat, the question must, by default, be pointless.

The same system then extends from facts to morals.

So, to return from the heights of abstraction, I am frequently asked if I think the brethren and their Truth are wrong. My customary reply is that I don't think they're right, but that I don't consider myself qualified to say they're wrong. Any brethren will always follow this with something which assumes that I have said they're wrong, but with some puzzlement because I haven't said it clearly. It appears to them that I am playing with words so as not to be accused of apostasy. The actual and real distinction between "not right" and "wrong" is a classic grey area that years of indoctrination has left them blind to.

That blindness explains more than I have room to go into here, but knowing that, for brethren, anything that cannot be stated unequivocally to be right must necessarily be wrong, allows one to understand more of their behaviour than is possible when thinking in terms of messy reality.