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THE EVEN TRICKIER BUSINESS OF KNOWING WHO YOU ARE

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.

Marcel Proust

So if you are not the centre of the universe, what is? Well, the best advice I can offer is the same as in the first chapter: stop . . . breathe deeply . . . if it helps, imagine yourself stranded for a few hours in Dublin airport. Search deep inside yourself for those memories and feelings that are most precious. These are the things that can begin to put you back in touch with yourself and lead to your true centre.

Now I know that not everyone will have these particular memories, but can you remember the nervous passions and the trembling delight of first love when the sound of your beloved’s voice, or the touch of their hand, could conjure joy, and when just seeing them and being seen was rapture, and when the memory of presence or the expectation of encounter set your pulse dancing? Or can you just remember the aching thirst of loving and desiring someone, even if that love was not returned?

Can you remember just being with someone who trusted you and believed in you and with whom you felt safe? It might be a lover or it might be a friend.

Or can you remember how it felt holding your first child in your hands for the first time? Or else watching your children as they sleep, running your fingers through their hair, wishing that time could stand still, wanting to hold this moment, and so many moments, for ever, into an eternity: thinking, who will be there to love them and hold them and stroke their foreheads on the last day of their life? Or, for that matter, seeing someone else’s child; wondering at the exquisite mystery that you are here at all and that this particular new life began with that particular sperm and that particular egg and has now issued forth in this particular bundle of life? You don’t have to be a parent to be amazed at the profligate beauty of a new human being. And all the scientific knowledge of how it came about won’t take away the wonder, so that eminent gynaecologist and teenage mother alike call it a miracle.

Can you reach back into your own childhood? Can you remember what it felt like to be held tightly by arms and hands much bigger than your own? Have you known, and can you recall, what it is like to be cherished and valued just because you are?

But what if you have felt none of these things? What if you are reading these words and seething with anger and regret that for you childhood and love, friendship and parenthood, have brought as much frustration as delight? Or, worse, they have brought you neglect and abuse. Yet even the most neglected and the most appallingly abused carry within them the possibility of being loved and of loving in return. Indeed, this is what they long for. It is only this giving and receiving of love that offers them any hope. And the majority of people will have memories that they can return to, that define who they are and shape their lives; cherished moments when they knew themselves to be precious, moments that make life worth living, and cause them to rage against the inevitability of death. These moments are deeply physical – we tend to locate them in the stomach as much as the heart – but they are also what many people will call ‘spiritual’. They seem to occupy a place in our consciousness where we are most truly ourselves (so much so that it floods our whole being). It is impossible to imagine what it is like for this not to be. And even when a broken and abused life has given us a meagre ration, these experiences are the ones we wish to build our lives upon, places within where love and passion, tenderness and delight inform and sustain us.

Although the world has many explanations for these feelings, the latest being offered by the decoding of the human gene, there is still a great resistance to being so unravelled. And this resistance is more than an anti-intellectual hankering over a simpler and more certain past, where people more readily believed and accepted a view of humanity that clearly identified these feelings and desires within something called the soul. It seems as if it is part of the DNA itself. Humans instinctively and intuitively believe there is something more to life than what they see around them. Human life adds up to more than the sum total of people’s ability to explain themselves.

There is something in the centre – at the heart – that demands explanation. And people need an explanation that takes account of the spiritual reality that they still believe and experience to be the most important thing about themselves.

Surveys consistently show that most people in Britain still believe in God (though who or what God might be is not clear) and still pray regularly. Along with this goes a whole panoply of other beliefs and practices. Acknowledging that something is missing, people either start a spiritual search, or become beguiled and fascinated by spiritual things. Hence the growing interest in everything from horoscopes and yoga to pantheism, reincarnation, crystals and tarot cards. Far from being on the wane, we live in a culture where fascination with all things spiritual appears to be on the increase. And all this in a supposedly rational and scientific age.

Even if you are not one of those people who look for meaning and purpose in life through that growing pot-pourri of New Age spiritualities, and this is increasingly the case among the young, you have a spiritual dimension to life (even if you don’t use the word) because you experience love and joy and sadness and, yes, even the darker experiences of greed and hatred. And if you are a spiritual seeker, then that is good: because there is a spiritual meaning to life and the pulse of this dimension can be felt in all things that are good and true. But, even if you are not, these things demand an explanation.

My explanation is simple: human beings are made in the image of God. This does not mean that God looks like us, but that the feelings and thoughts that are the foundation of our own understanding of ourselves have their origin in God. People, as it were, reflect back to God the consciousness and creativity out of which they are created.