A few mornings ago I was out running bleary-eyed at about 6:30am, having forced myself up and out of my duvet cocoon almost an hour previously.
For a long time, there was nothing I loved to do more than lie-in until lunchtime (the strange shifts I worked at my local pub probably had a lot to do with it). But answering the call of full-time employment I’ve returned to my childlike ways and am what many would longingly gawk at as a ‘morning person’.
There is something strangely satisfying about being awake before anyone else, although I realise it’s my privilege to be able to choose to do this rather than my job, or the cry of a child, or indeed both, demanding it. Nevertheless, seeing the sunrise and watching as the world slowly eases its way out of hibernation for another day seems to be the thing that encourages me to venture out into the cold.
Admittedly, the need to train for a charity 10k I’m doing this October is also a factor.
My Mum actually suggested I seek professional help when I told her of my plans back in February. That probably gives you a good idea of how inactive I was prior to this year.
I never for a minute thought I’d become one of ‘those people’ who enjoy running and physically at least I don’t feel I’m a great deal better now than when I started. If anything, I feel more battered and bruised than I did in my former life as someone in the midst of a loving, long-term relationship with Netflix.
But mentally, it really has had an impact.
I don’t mean this in the sense of wellness, or self-care, or any of those catch-all terms that we use to essentially justify anything from running, to treating ourselves to avocado on toast, to more or less anything else you can think of.
What I mean is that it’s given me the time to think.
Some days these thoughts are more profound than others. Regardless, I love having a dedicated hour (see earlier reference to shocking athletic ability) to listen to a podcast, roam around a beautiful city and simply contemplate what I’m seeing and hearing. It seems to be the only time I’m semi-alone with my brain, unconsciously following the winding ways of my mind.
It was on this one particular morning, the one I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, that I had what I considered to be one of my more percipient musings. Read into that what you will.
My route often takes me past the city’s cathedral, but in the soft dawn light that morning I was newly struck by its vast, extravagant beauty.
It wasn’t the architecture that I was in awe of. It was the fact that people, our ancestors, had built this staggering place at a time when technology, and perhaps even knowledge, was far from what it is now.
It prompted me consider what had driven them to rise each morning.
Was it economic? The need to make money to survive?
Was it pride? The desire to showcase quality craftsmanship?
Was it belief? The omnipresent power of religion?
Religious faith and worship undoubtedly were, and indeed remain, a crucial part of people’s lives. A wealth of reasons probably motivated the workers responsible for bringing this holy place to life. However, fundamentally the reason for it being built in the first place was because the vast majority of people saw value in it being there. They perhaps questioned the expense, were perhaps naïve in following teachings from the top, but ultimately it felt worthwhile to them.
This led me to an inevitable question.
Why do so many deserving issues and elements of our lives lack their own 123 metre spires and all they represent?
Equality, diversity, climate change, human rights. The list is endless.
It wasn’t a question I could answer. Maybe it’s a matter of those in positions of power not subscribing to the importance of overcoming these systemic problems our society has been facing for thousands of years. Equally, maybe it’s a lack of consentient belief in the issues and a similar lack of majority commitment to making positive change.
As I turned to jog up the hill to home, my thoughts too took on a new direction and I couldn’t help but dwell on one thing.
The fact is, people built that cathedral because they had faith. The form it took was at times undeniably problematic, but faith by definition isn’t intrinsically tied to religion.
Faith is having a complete trust or confidence in someone or something.
Past peoples evidently had this, or else they wouldn’t have devoted so much time to the creation of lavish edifices. Therefore, theoretically at least, there’s no reason why faith cannot be ubiquitous once again.
However, this time, one can only hope that faith serves to have a fruitful result for all. That it supports everything of significance and everyone unanimously, enabling us to stand shoulder to shoulder atop the steeple.
Modernish 