Well, it cuts you just like a knife

Takes away your love of life

Puts out your fire and leaves you in the ashes…

Some days you really feel like hiding

These are lyrics from the first verse of the Stiff Little Fingers song, ‘My Dark Places’. I’m going to talk here about emerging from one of my dark places and completely unexpectedly encountering the sparkling light of random acts of kindness.

Although the sun was shining, it felt like the darkest, drizzly, grey day as I hesitantly walked into Norwich city centre for the first time in months. All of the people; the chatter, the movement… it all felt too much to my hyper-vigilant senses. I kept my head down, avoiding eye-contact. My body felt like a sack of spuds as, for the first time in my life, trapped inside my ‘head’ and home, I had become sedentary. It was the first day I had been out in months following my most recent mental ‘breakdown’.

What had prompted me to venture out? Something ‘practical’; something mundane – a flipping library fine! During my descent into my ‘dark place’ I had let go entirely of the worldly ‘reigns’ and one consequence of this is that I’d accumulated a substantial library fine. So, with great anxiety and trepidation, I made my way into the cavernous Forum building and shuffled to a desk where a young man, a member of the library staff, was sitting. He asked how he could help and I began to blurt out how my life had fallen apart and the fines had built up. This young man – and I sincerely wish I knew his name – quietly and calmly responded by voiding my fine. I was SO vulnerable and felt his gentleness and compassion. I thanked him whilst suppressing tears and made my way out into the Forum concourse…

Too many people… so tired… so very weary… as a veteran of such moments, I knew to find me a safe, quiet, beautiful space, just to be for while.

I am standing by the font within St Peter Mancroft church. I am slowly walking around the font with its wooden canopy, pretending to be human, but – quite literally – just going through the motions, like a zombie automaton. As I stare vacantly into the distance with rising alarm I sense someone walking towards me. He says something and, unable to process this unexpected encounter, I ask him to repeat himself…

‘Would you like to take a look at the church from our new bell ringer’s loft?’

‘Er, yes… yes please!’

The gentleman (and I mean, gentle-man) who spoke to me was one of the vergers. And that’s how, on that dark, difficult day I found myself face-to-face with angels – and here’s the photo I took, the moment I ‘captured’:

From up here you get a great view of the beautiful fifteenth century angel roof

Reflection: these two ‘random acts of kindness’ may have felt like small gestures to the generous men who looked after me that day, but, to me, they made all the difference in the world. The way in which we conduct ourselves has resonances and impacts that we may not imagine. I have never forgotten their gentle care and generosity of spirit and now that I have returned, stronger, wiser – better! – I’m resolved to contribute to more kindness ‘out there’, so watch this space for developments relating to this.

Finally, returning to the Stiff Little Fingers song, I’ll sign-off here with a quote from the final verse of ‘My Dark Places’

Well, I got there in end

With the help of many friends

Some who helped by simply just believing

Colin Howey

Norwich Pit Stop Coordinator

colin@1136789091.n79310.test.prositehosting.co.uk