Anam is the Gaelic word for soul, and cara the word for friend – hence, ‘Soul Friend.’ The book is subtitled ‘Spiritual Wisdom from the Celtic World.’ It was written by the late poet, philosopher and former priest, John O’Donohue.
As dawn approaches, ‘The first fingers of light appear on the horizon; ever so deftly and gradually, they pull the mantle of darkness away from the world. Quietly, before you is the mystery of a new dawn, the new day.’
I first became aware of this book about twenty years ago when my favourite composer John Barry referred to it as being amongst his favourite books. Indeed he and the author became good friends. Much of what I like about Barry’s music I find here. The composer who wrote the scores for 'Out Of Africa', 'Dances With Wolves', 'Somewhere In Time', 'Born Free' and the concept album 'The Beyondness Of Things' was no stranger to writing beautifully melodic music that could be both spiritually stirring and achingly melancholic. Music to contemplate to, and, if it rocks your boat, be moved by. This is what we have with Anam Cara; a poetically written book of contemplation to stir the soul, and which also encourages us to ask questions of ourselves, and all that is around.
I’ll be frank here, I am not a religious person, and if I thought the writer was pushing any such beliefs onto me I’d be wary of journeying any further; but, although being a former priest the writer makes references to God, I get the impression that his thoughts are aimed at the philosophical audience, rather than the religious. There are actually very few references to the Bible and indeed O’Donohue is not beyond questioning aspects of his former occupation himself. The sparks of his creative thinking come from many sources, with the thoughts of his beloved Meister Eckhart, a thirteenth century German philosopher and mystic, never far away. I can appreciate and enjoy much of what he says, not only because of the concentration on nature, but for the fact that many of his reflections and observations echo my own; especially his thoughts on solitude, silence and contemplation, as opposed to the increasing noise, speed, falsity and impersonality of much of the modern world. And he often expresses his love of music. This is not a middle-aged man’s moan; John O’Donohue is overwhelmingly positive, and the eloquence of his prose pulls you along and constantly stimulates thought and contemplation.
It is broken up into six main sections: The Mystery of Friendship; The Spirituality of the Senses; Solitude; Growth; Ageing; and finally Death. Whatever the subject, he constantly returns back to nature and the natural world; how we fit into it (as well as the world we have created for ourselves). And this is where my interest is and what draws me in. Personally, it’s where I get my spirituality from. If you stand motionless and alone in a warm spring meadow, a forest, a wave-sculpted coast, or next to a meandering river that has formed its shape over a great period of time, then allow yourself to rise into a relaxed concentration, using all your senses to deeply feel everything that is around you, it really can induce the most overwhelming sense of awareness and pleasure of being at one with the world; and if it hits your spot, instill a real sense of belonging and purpose. Many musical works also stir my senses and imagination to contemplation; and I suspect yoga and meditation likewise. The late scientist Carl Sagan used the words ‘star stuff’ to get over his point that everything is made up of the same matter, and here, the late John O’Donohue uses the word ‘clay’ to elucidate the same point. ‘Your body is as ancient as the clay of the universe from which it is made; and your feet on the ground are a constant connection with the earth.’
For me, that sense of belonging and purpose (which I think so many of us seek) speaks to me more powerfully and directly in that which I can see, touch, hear and smell all around – the natural world. This would be my church, rather than the organised ceremony to the unseen. But thank goodness we’re not all the same; as long as we share tolerance of others and aspire to a world of peace, harmony and understanding, love and joyful fun; the world can be a wonderful place.
I don’t read such books blindly and without questioning - and nor, I suspect would John O’Donohue have expected this. I select what is relevant to me, and, after reflection let anything which I may disagree with, or feel not relevant to me, float on into the ether. ‘Each one of us was sent here for a special destiny,’ was one rather ‘pulpitty’ quote that I shook my head to. Not quite sure how a mother who has lost a baby in childbirth would react to that. But it’s the only such quote I can recall.
As one who perhaps selfishly enjoys his own company a tad too much, such references as, ‘To be genuinely spiritual is to have great respect for the possibilities and presence of silence,’ brings a smile to my face. ‘A world lives within you,’ he says. And later, ‘Everyone is an artist. Each person brings sound out of silence and coaxes the invisible to become visible.’
He’s critical of where we have gone in some ways, ‘In our culture, there is an excessive concentration on the notion of relationships. It is a constant theme on TV, film and media. Technology and media are not uniting the world. They pretend to provide a world that is internetted, but in reality, all they deliver is a simulated world of shadows. Accordingly, they make our human world more anonymous and lonely. In a world where the computer replaces human encounter…’ In a later passage he says, ‘You relate to your inner world through thought. If these thoughts are not your own thoughts, then they are second hand thoughts. Each of us needs to learn the unique language of our own soul. In that distinctive language we will discover a lens of thought to brighten and illuminate our inner world.’ He goes on, ‘Ascetic solitude involves silence. And silence is a great victim of modern culture. We live in an intense and visually aggressive age, everything is drawn outwards towards the sensation of the image. Because culture is becoming ever more homogenized and universalist, image has such power. With the continued netting of everything, chosen images can immediately attain universality.’
And to end on a happy quote. ‘The passionate heart never ages.’
It is one of those books that is so beautifully written that you don’t have to agree with everything said, it’s just a joy to read. I think it’s a book you can approach from any belief and take from it the nuggets of wisdom that speak to you. He wrote other similar books, such as 'Eternal Echoes,' from which John Barry took the title for another of his concept albums.
[Note. Yes, I like an area in the corner of my living room where I can shut myself off and read, write, listen to music and contemplate. But in case you get the wrong idea that I’m a curmudgeonly old git, there’s no one who enjoys a cool pint and natter in the pub with a few mates more than myself! And the boogying days haven’t long ceased!]