Three Wisdom Lessons from my Grandmother
Nan, my grandmother on my mother’s side of the family, was born in Pontypridd (pronounced Pont-e-preeth), Wales, in a poor area of the town in 1908. Her grandfather was a French seaman and her grandmother came from a Welsh mining family. She was a slim and striking woman with black hair, pale skin and piercing blue eyes. She was married to my grandfather Edwin, a tall, patrician man who was trained in his family’s shoe making business. He branched out, however, to become, first, a policeman and later a steward and general manager of an Ex- Serviceman’s Club followed by managing the prestigious Glamorganshire Golf Club.
Nan was always a live wire and up for adventure. She quoted Shakespeare, popular poems and maxims, and even when affected by dementia in later years she remembered certain favorite quotes like “Lead on McDuff”, “Steady the Buffs”, and, “It’s all part of life’s rich pattern.” There were three pieces of her wisdom and general good advice, though, that I have held dear throughout my life.
A Nice Cup of Tea
The first was her endless invitations to have a “nice cup of tea.” Tea solved every problem and making tea was the first thing to be done whatever the gathering. “Let’s have a cup of tea and a bit of fun,” was her declaration and, in times of straitened means, tea was a simple treat that you could always enjoy. Who could resist! In those days, tea was the universal drink of Great Britain. The teapot was always warmed first before adding the tea and a hand knitted tea cozy was placed over the pot to keep the tea warm in the cool Welsh weather. I can be back in my Nan’s parlor as my mom, Nan and I, and often my granddad and uncle settled in for a chat. The ritual of tea drinking as much as the drink itself brought a sense of wellbeing and, in times of difficulty, real comfort. I still enjoy at least two or three mugs of good, strong black tea daily. As a child it was customarily taken with milk and sugar. Today I like it black with just a smidgen of milk. Yes, it settles, satisfies, revivifies, and cures all ills.
The Primordial Ooze
When conversation turned, as it occasionally did, to philosophical matters, my Nan would always declaim the existence of the primordial ooze or soup as the origin of things. It was the final say on any speculation on the nature of life. We did not, could not, proceed further. It’s a great mystery, she would say, and we all arise out of the primordial ooze. She may have heard this term from scientists in the 1920s. I’m not sure, but it satisfied her and I kind of liked it too.
It makes sense, whether we are talking about the fantastically chaotic nature of the early universe before electrons and all the rest came into some kind of ordered being, or in reference to early stages of planet Earth before life emerged from the oceanic soup.
Images of primordial ponds and lakes that are fecund with life and possibility proliferate in world mythology and religion, whether it be the sacred lakes and bogs of the Celts, or the Lady of the Lake bringing forth a magic sword in Arthurian legend, to the birth story of Moses in the bullrushes, or the arising of Subramanium, the second son of Shiva, from the cosmic lotus pond, becoming Saravanabava, the one born in the reeds.
We are all born, in a real sense, from the rich ooze of sperm and egg. Everything creative, from life itself, to art, music and invention comes forth from the mysterious ocean of possibility. So my Nan was right with this one, although she would not have taken it into the realms of her overly intellectual grandson.
The Great I Am
The final piece of wisdom I take with me is Nan’s fondness for the term “The Great I am”. Growing up in the nonconformist chapel tradition I am sure she heard preachers talk about Jesus as the Great I Am. It was more than that for her. It was shorthand for the creative impulse and power of the universe. Again, like the primordial ooze, it was not to be questioned. The Great I Am was the coverall that provided final meaning. No point discussing it any further. In a way, I am ok with that too.
When Moses coerced God (if that’s possible) into telling him his name, he gnomically stated, “I am that I am”, as if to say, That’s all you’re getting.
When Jesus states in the Gospel of John, “I am the Way the Truth and the Life”, he is again referring to the Great I Am. Did he mean himself, Jesus, or was he pointing to the very name of God which is the heart and essence of him and us? I believe he meant the latter and that his words have been misconstrued and twisted into some kind of cult personality for close on 2000 years.
For me, the Great I Am is the affirmative impulse of the universe, the force that impregnates the primordial ooze with life and love and endless possibility.
Thanks
So, I thank Susan Maurice Ingram, my Nan, for these three lessons in wisdom. Before we get too high falutin’ let’s remember to have a nice cup of tea. And as to the primordial ooze and the Great I Am, for me, Nan summed up the two great forces at work in the universe and in our individual lives. Call them Spirit and matter, idea and manifestation, or the fertile matrix out of which everything flows. If you’re a Buddhist you might use the terms form and emptiness, the Hindus have Purusha, infinite potential, and Prakriti, manifest energy.
But here I go again, getting a little heavy with the philosophical stuff. Nan, I’m sure you would be a little amused by that. Yet you would always be accepting and supportive no matter what. Perhaps these three pieces of wisdom are but the indicators of the real heart of what you gave to me. It was your adventurous and optimistic spirit, your cheeky, resilient response to life’s challenges and your delight in whimsy and fun that are imbued in me today.