Keep the earth below my feet

 

"The true object of all human life is play. Earth is a task garden; heaven is a playground."
(G.K. Chesterton)

Due to my technical difficulties in recent weeks, I've had thoughts for a particular post flapping around in my full little head since the feasts of the Ascension and Pentecost. I started thinking about our notions of heaven and earth and what store we might set by any separation or unity of the two.
The ascension of Jesus to heaven has always provided atheists and sceptics with massive heartburn. Bible critics point to the mythical cosmology of the New Testament in particular, citing the structural convenience of heaven above, earth as the middle ground and the depths of the underworld below; furthest removed from the celestial realm. Sceptics have also suggested that accounts of Jesus' ascension tidily discredited any possible ongoing claims of Jesus appearing within the growing Christian community. Yet the tradition of Jesus' ascension, professed in both the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds, is certainly accepted and respected across the Catholic, Orthodox and Protestant churches. The bodily ascension is seen as an obvious and unequivocal sign of Jesus' humanity and divinity, of his participation in our story and God's power and love.

Jesus refers to heaven and the Father there throughout his ministry, accepting his inevitable return and promising us the same rise. Sounds a bit too pie in the sky to be feasible? We wordy humans refer to heaven constantly as we respond to both the minutiae and more unusual stresses or pleasant surprises in our daily lives. It's very, very hot in Brighton at the moment, but far from drawing comparisons with any fiery pit down below (and I don't mean the Antipodes), Brightonians and tourists alike exclaim that this is "heavenly weather", "heaven on earth". My neighbour described her leafy back garden as "paradise" earlier.
 It seems most of us grow up with the notion that there is a heaven "up there": somewhere over the rainbow; even higher than the sky, beyond the sun, in another dimension; infinity and beyond. We can calculate and probe the centre of our earth; we can salvage from the ocean floor. We know how to make fire and usually how to put out flames. Yet no rocket can ever really touch the sky. "To infinity and beyond" may conjure up ethereal realms but nitty gritties such as maths and physics are always in the elusive mix. We can hazard a guess at what the Neanderthals preferred for midweek dinner, but we can't quite calculate the edges of the universe; where our world might end and another could begin.

I like the Pentecostal symbolism of Spirit enfolding air, water and fire: the rushing wind that heralds Spirit, the water of baptism and the tongues of flame that anoint and inspire the Apostles. I understand now that the fourth element, earth, is found in the Apostles themselves. Man is grounded and of earth itself. And it's essentially a wonderful place, unimagined and still misunderstood by us, for all our scientific and philosophical digging. Whether you subscribe to the Big Bang Theory, the Bigger Big Bang Theory, or believe in creation by a higher power, we did not make this earth which supports our vast ambitions alongside the most microscopic, ancient ecosystems. Of course there are inherent extremes of temperature and terrain across this planet, but so many of the world's crisis and problems are due to man's mismanagement and lack of safe-guarding.
People starve, not because of some vaguely discriminating natural law or the survival of the fittest. A huge proportion of the finest arable land is used to grow grain to feed an increased animal population to satisfy meat consumerism. In the United States alone, 175 million tons of cereals and vegetable protein, suitable for human consumption, is fed to livestock bound for just 28 million tons of animal protein, often in the form of "fast food".

I assure you this is not a vegetarian rant. In what we constantly refer to as developing countries, the use of land to create and maintain an artificial food chain has resulted in misery and famine for millions of our neighbours. One acre of land used for local cereal or vegetable production will respectively produce five and ten times more protein than one acre used for meat production for market elsewhere. In the case of crops such as soya, the probable increased protein yield is thirty times more.

The terrible human consequences of the shift of focus from food to feed were dramatically evident during the Ethiopian famine in 1984. Ethiopians starved in front of our TV cameras, but Ethiopia was harvesting a wealth of linseed and rapeseed for European livestock. We wept as the redoubtable Michael Buerk reported on famine and desolation on an epic, biblical scale. The region held by many to be the location of the Garden of Eden was described as "hell on earth".

Ordinary people responded with what was seen to be extraordinary kindness. A dishevelled potty-mouthed Oirish punk called Bob shouted, swore and sweated and celebrities suddenly found their own feet of clay could actually help kick political butts. The BBC and CBC footage from 1984 still makes me cry: as it did for so many other people, "Live Aid" changed me and the way I saw the world, man and God. I remember the concerts as though they were last week, not thirty years ago. Unfortunately, the famine in that region and others has proved endless. Charity surged and continues to flow but common sense and economic justice still don't amount to much for governments and the corporate world.
It's both a tragedy and a travesty that 80 percent of the earth's hungry children live in lands with food surpluses which are fed to animals bred for consumption by the affluent. It's a terrible irony that tens of thousands in the so-called First World die every year from diseases exacerbated by affluence: heart disease, strokes, diabetes and some cancers. Many years ago, a lovely old man in a loincloth and blanket pointed out that the earth has enough to sustain man's needs but not his greed; we nodded at Gandhi's wisdom and smiled at his naiveté.

On this glowing, fine day, I truly don't wish to put anyone off their barbecued beef or even their bean burger. Yet under the same unremitting blue sky, military experts warn today that Britain must "be prepared to go to war" in Syria to effectively end the conflict there and keep chemical weapons out of terrorist hands. The United Nations has already called the conflict in Syria the worst humanitarian conflict of the past twenty years, estimating 100,000 fatalities so far. Millions of Syrians have already fled or been displaced and hunger and disease breed in their tracks.

Man should never be prepared to go to war: it's a chillingly pointless statement when you strip away ideologies and strategies, flags and uniforms. We tend our gardens and man our borders for personal preservation. The ancient indigenous populations knew that we belong to the earth rather than vice versa; we are indeed borrowing it for and from our children. Herbaceous borders are lovely but boundaries and division confine as well as protect. It riles me particularly when people say:"You guys believe in God - why doesn't he stop the war?" God doesn't start war; if all men really believed in God, heaven and hell and themselves, they wouldn't start it either.

It's seen as human nature to seek comfort, provenance and heaven on earth. Walking across the Level here in Brighton, I see folk seeking enlightenment or oneness with the universe through various cultivated substances. The Sanskrit word "nirvana" literally means "blown out", as in a candle, referring to the stillness and peace of mind which remain after desires, dissentions and delusion are extinguished. But you can't drink your way to Spirit, or smoke your way to heaven.
I do believe that we encounter people, places and events that help us on our individual paths to heaven. If we're fortunate, we recognise our soul mates along the way. If we're blessed, our soul mates recognise us back. There's much beauty to be found on earth and much more to aspire to beyond. I believe we should embrace and cherish this world rather than reaching to pull the next down to us, like a fruit-laden branch to be plundered and muddied.
 

"On earth there is no heaven, but there are pieces of it."
(Jules Renard)

 

"Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in."
(C.S. Lewis)

 

www.cafod.org.uk
www.careinternational.org.uk
www.doctorswithoutborders.org
www.oxfam.org.uk
www.savethechildren.org.uk
www.syriarelief.org.uk
www.unicef.org.uk
www.wateraid.org
www.worldvision.org.uk
 
 

"Below My Feet"  Mumford and Sons

"Keep the earth below my feet;
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak.
Let me learn from where I have been;
Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn."
(Dwane, Lovett, Mumford, Marshall)

 

 

"And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair."
(Kahlil Gibran)

 

 

Each time you blink

 

 "While every refugee's story is different and their anguish personal, they all share a common thread of uncommon courage: the courage not only to survive, but to persevere and rebuild their shattered lives."

( Antonio Guterres, United Nations Refugee Agency)

Yesterday was World Refugee Day; very tellingly, I forgot about it, as many did. It took the often stunning but exhausting Russell Brand on last night's Question Time panel to remind me, and the audience. So often in these economically depressed times, the word is "Refugee" and yet we hear "Immigration"; and we feel the boundary.
A United Nations report issued this week confirms starkly that that we’re experiencing the worst refugee crisis in nearly two decades. Nearly 50 million are currently displaced from their homes due to conflict or violence. This is the highest number since 1994, when millions of people fled "ethnic cleansing" and genocide in former Yugoslavia and Rwanda.
The majority of today's refugees are originally from Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia, Sudan and Syria. Beyond any scaremonger sloganeering from any political corner or hole, it may surprise many in the U.K. that the countries that historically have most opened their borders to refugees remain constant: Pakistan, wracked by its own crises; followed by Iran, Germany and Kenya. Turkey has joined the "top ten" list after giving refuge to an influx of Syrians, displaced by or fleeing the civil war.
The United Nations estimates that the war in Syria, now in it's third year, has forced 1.6 million Syrians into neighbouring Jordan, Lebanon and Turkey. They flee from a conflict which has so far killed nearly 100,000 people, crushed their homes, schools and businesses and denied their identity. They do not leave by any choice other than the will to survive and to see their children live. It's the same spirit which gets you and I out of bed in the morning, scratching and groaning, to grab breakfast and get the bus to work; minus the job, the bus, the breakfast and the home: insert fear and hunger instead. Later this year, the number of refugees from Syria alone will reach 3 million. For those of you who don't find the Bible believable or relevant to modern living, there are situations of epic displacement, persecution and exodus across the world right now.
As this summer solstice dawned, as with each new day, another 23,000 people began their own search for safety or refuge from persecution. Few borders are geographical rather than manmade; worldwide problems don't stop at checkpoints. Charity certainly should begin at home but the outside world which essentially houses all of us, does not begin or end at your own doorstep. Our world has a newly internally displaced person every four seconds. As Antonio Guterres, chief of the U.N.'s Refugee Agency says: "Each time you blink, another person is forced to flee,"

 

"On World Refugee Day, I call on the international community to intensify efforts to prevent and resolve conflicts, and to help achieve peace and security so that families can be reunited and refugees can return home."
(Ban Ki-moon, U.N. Secretary-General)

 "In my experience, going home is the deepest wish of most refugees."
(Angelina Jolie, U.N. Envoy)

 

www.unhcr.org/World-Refugee-Day

 

 

"Seven Seconds" Youssou N'dour with Neneh Cherry 

Funny thing, charity...

"As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others."

(Sam Levenson)

There is a Hebrew word for "charity" which is "tzedakah"; it literally translates as JUSTICE. Yesterday was the 25th anniversary of "Red Nose Day" (RND), the highlight and major appeal day of British charity "Comic Relief". The charity was founded in 1985 by comedian Lenny Henry and scriptwriter Richard Curtis, in response to the famine in Ethiopia. It was launched on Christmas Day, from a refugee camp in Sudan. The charity's maintained aim is to bring about positive, lasting change in the lives of disadvantaged people, investing in work that addresses immediate needs and tackles the root causes of poverty and injustice. It's maintained principle is that every pound donated is spent on charitable projects; all operating costs and salaries are covered by corporate sponsors or any interest earned on collected funds before they're distributed.

RND was launched on 5th February 1988 as a national day of comedy and corporate and personal fundraising. The day traditionally culminates in a BBC telethon. It appears that we need comic, light relief to stem the deluge of heart-breaking films showing life and death in what we too readily refer to as the Third World. More than a quarter of a century after the images of famine on an apocalyptic scale flickered on our screens, accompanied by appropriately emotive pop music, we are still being asked to give. 
Personally, I wish I had a pound for every time I've heard someone moan: "the famine's still there, so giving five, ten, twenty years ago didn't do any good". Today, there other children starving; so many of those featured in previous RND films and documentaries will have died. Hunger is as naturally occurring as greed and lust. You and I will probably "feel" hungry at some point during every day throughout our lives,  yet will have no comprehension of what hunger actually is.
People don't volunteer to be born poor or in disadvantaged, stricken or war-torn regions. Good fortune places us this side of the TV screen. For years, I watched the RND telethon with my Mum. Invariable at some point during the evening we would both be in tears and she would say "Phone now", asking me to also donate on her behalf, from a basic, unsupplemented state pension. It always moved me that Mum, by no means a saint, would give to people in parts of the world she had never learned about in school and couldn't name, even as someone whose own income and expectations seemed so restricted. 

I've made a bit of a song and dance about not being able to have a glass of wine or slice of sticky-toffee cake for my birthday, falling part way through Lent. The blatant truth is that I chose to give up those things, and for a very limited time. With two hands and fresh vegetables to cook with, the want of cake and Pinot Grigio will never kill me. I'm ashamed that I frequently say I'm too broke to go for a meal out, to get the bathroom sorted, to go on holiday; I have no real concept of what it means to be broken.
Of course Comic Relief funds projects "locally" too; with a growing reputation for initiatives responding to and educating against domestic abuse. But as I grow older, the world somehow seems a much smaller place. I find the whole "Charity begins at home" plea tedious and quite despicable. This earth houses us all, but supports some much more comfortably than others. There is only one world, however much we spout about the first, second or third. You don't need to be a God-botherer or a tree-hugger to appreciate the obscenity of any child wasting away for the want of water, rice, mosquito nets or basic medicines; it's irrelevantl where that child was born or who to.
Over the years, Comic Relief has raised well over £750 million; last night's telethon total will add another record breaking £75 million. Obviously we can continue to donate throughout the rest of the year.
I'm not a fan of the "Reality TV" phenomenon: I think it panders to and then feeds off the worst excesses and inadequacies of human nature, turning it as entertainment. Generally, it's cheaply made television which makes celebrities of those who shout the most. Last night, I watched the most raw, damning reality TV of all. A tiny African boy, ironically called Victor, expired on camera. His parents couldn't afford to pay for the morgue, so the local hospital allowed them to lay him in their laundry over-night. Wrapped up on the shelf, he could have been just another bundle of soiled rags. A fiver could have kept him alive: half a pizza, less than a pint of Guinness, a couple of goes on the lottery.

"You will find out that Charity is a heavy burden to carry, heavier than the kettle of soup and the full basket. But you will keep your gentleness and your smile. It is not enough to give soup and bread. This the rich can do. 

It is only for your love alone that the poor will forgive you the bread you give to them." 

(St Vincent de Paul)

www.rednoseday.com

"People Help The People"  Birdy

"While we do our good works let us not forget that the real solution lies in a world in which charity will have become unnecessary." 

( Chinua Achebe)

The Power of Love

"Tell me, what's Love?" said Youth, one day, 

To drooping Age, who crossed his way, 

"It is a sunny hour of play, 

For which repentance dear doth pay, 

Repentance! Repentance! 

And this is Love, as wise men say."

(St Thomas More)

The American critic George Jean Nathan said that: "Beauty makes idiots sad and wise men merry"; there is of course a fine line between appreciation and criticism. I went for an early morning walk today and decide to get a cup of tea along the bleary-eyed seafront. The very disgruntled and shuffly woman serving was largely on her mobile 'phone, berating her partner to one girlfriend after another. His crime? He'd bought her beauty treatments for Christmas. "Is he having a laugh or what?? I'll give him ******* luxury spas mate!" She was clearly insulted. As one of the many who buys her own Nivea from the supermarket (and, I have to say, makes far better tea), I wanted to tell her that a smile and a look of appreciation or even interest would serve her far better than any day at the spa.
The day after Boxing Day, I came back to Brighton to work and was hurrying along very absent mindedly when I passed a woman pushing her empty buggy. Her very little boy was stomping along beside her. He was wearing a Santa hat and trying to keep it off his eyes. I turned back to smile at him and he promptly told me it had been his birthday on Christmas Day, the same day as Jesus' birthday.
"Oh?"
"But he's a lot older than me. I'm four."
"Mmm, how old do you think He is?"
"Don't know. Older than Dad..."
His mum started giggling as he burbled away.
"And my Dad's very old. But Mum is older..."
I looked at her properly and she might have been all of thirty-five on a bad day.
"Mum's so old that Dad has to buy her special cream for her face..."
His Mum gave me the most beautiful smile and whispered:"Only Avon stuff. But he likes me to have it. Not sure it's working!"
I wanted to tell her that whatever it was, it was clearly "working" for all of them.

I admit that I cry at Christmas commercials; only the really good ones, mind. Over the past couple of years, John Lewis seems to have hacked into my hormonal hard drive. This year's commercial, with the snowman determined to provide his snow-woman with gloves, scarf and a hat, has made me wipe my eyes with mince-pie fingers several times. Of course, the lovely matching woollens could only be for decoration - she's a snow-woman for pity's sake - and might well add to an eventual demise by meltdown. But the production and the sentiment are beautiful. Much as I love Gabrielle Aplin's version of "The Power of Love", I wanted to include the original, glorious song by Frankie Goes To Hollywood, cheesy and kitsch nativity video and all.
The song still sounds magical to me, combining all the secular and spiritual energies of love. Singer and composer Holly Johnson, himself no stranger to controversy, would later say that: "I always felt like "The Power of Love" was the record that would save me in this life," Written at the height of the 1980s' AIDS crisis in the UK, the song became something of a bonding anthem for anyone affected or moved by the epidemic, later lending it's name to a U.S. based charity, working to bring an end to HIV / AIDS in Africa. Of course, the charity is still very much in evidence today; the virus in Africa is still rampant and merciless, as written elsewhere in this blog.
Love really is the greatest gift of all, whether it's in a jar of face-cream, a life saving serum, or just a smile.

www.poweroflove.org

That John Lewis commercial...

....and the wonderful, original "Power of Love", by Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

"I'll protect you from the hooded claw,

Keep the vampires from your door; 

I'm so in love with you, 

Purge the soul,

Make love your goal.

Dreams are like angels,

They keep bad at bay:

Love is the light 

Scaring darkness away" 

(Holly Johnson)

"Everything has it's beauty, but not everyone sees it.
They must often change who would be constant in happiness or wisdom."

(Confucius)

Provenance and Providence

Guestling Woods, East Sussex

 "Thanksgiving has wings and goes where it must go. Your prayer knows much more about it than you do."

(Victor Hugo) 

American writer and pastor Henry Van Dyke noted:"Gratitude is the inward feeling of kindness received. Thankfulness is the natural impulse to express that feeling. Thanksgiving is the following of that impulse." A couple of days ago, on Thursday 22nd November, the United States of America and some other parts of the world celebrated Thanksgiving Day. This day has been an annual holiday in the United States since 1863, traditionally on the fourth Thursday in November; my friends in Canada give Thanks on the second Monday in October. 

Many people trace the origins of the modern Thanksgiving Day to the Pilgrim Fathers' harvest celebrations in Plymouth, Massachusetts, in 1621. However, their first true "thanksgiving" was probably in 1623, when they celebrated the downpour that ended a long drought. The earliest Thanksgiving Day celebrations were actually special church services rather than the extended family feasts of today. Later in the 1600s, annual public displays of thanksgiving after harvesting became more common, held on different days across various states: George Washington, the first president of the United States, proclaimed the first national Thanksgiving Day in 1789. In truth, not everyone sees Thanksgiving Day as a cause for celebration: American Indian Heritage Day is also observed around the same time, and recent years have seen Native Americans and their supporters staging protests in Plymouth on Thanksgiving Day, as part of their National Day of Mourning. 

"Oh Lord, that lends me life, lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! "

(Shakespeare's Henry VI)

Thanksgiving has historical roots in religious traditions, but is now generally celebrated in a more secular manner. Prayers of gratitude and special thanksgiving ceremonies have been common to nearly all religions and cultures after harvests and at times of deliverance. The modern celebration still holds aspects of a harvest festival, even though the harvest in New England occurs earlier than late November when the holiday is celebrated now. The history of Thanksgiving in North America is heavily rooted in English traditions dating from the Protestant Reformation. Reforms in 1536 reduced the vast number of church holidays ("holy days") down to twenty seven a year; some Puritans wanted to completely eliminate all church holidays, even Christmas and Easter. The holidays would be replaced by Days of Fasting and Days of Thanksgiving, in response to natural and national events that the Puritans viewed as acts of providence. Days of Fasting were called on account of drought, flooding and plague. A Day of Thanksgiving was called following the victory over the Spanish Armada in 1588; and an annual Day of Thanksgiving began in 1606 following the failure of the Gunpowder Plot, evolving into Guy Fawkes Day and Bonfire Night.

Photo: Gigi, album

"We give You thanks 

for the fruits of the earth in their season 

and for the labours of those who harvest them."

(from The Book of Common Prayer)

I've always loved the idea of the Thanksgiving celebrations and wish that something was made of the day in these islands. Much as I look forward to Christmas and fully embrace both the reverence and the sentimentality, I don't like the commercialism that starts way back in October. The tinsel trees were in stock along the High Street this year before the pear tree in my back garden had even thought about turning or shedding her own leaves. Aside from the traditional feasting, the emphasis at Thanksgiving is gathering with family and friends. Thanksgiving is the busiest time of the year for travel in the States, with people covering long distances by car, train and plane to spend time with loved ones; to be "home". Presence, rather than presents. 
The traditional feast is a slap-up one, featuring personal favourites of mine such as sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, pecan and pumpkin pies. Regrettably for me, a turkey will usually feature heavily (literally) in the menu. Today's stuffing and mashed potatoes may be a distant call from the harvest baskets of the Pilgrims, but many families still encourage guests to bring fruit and homemade tit-bits along. Even if you don't arrive with a couple of bottles of white or a six-pack of light, everyone can still bring something to the table: themselves.

Thanksgiving is also seen as a natural time to help others: canned food drives and food and night shelters are traditionally inundated with volunteers and donations. Each year, the US President "pardons" a White House turkey, delivering it from the dinner platter to the rest of it's natural life lived out on farmland. How wondrous would it be if every year each nation or culture could fully pardon one grudge, one breach, possibly one perceived natural enmity? 

When I was at school, a wonderful, obviously aged but somehow ageless nun called Sister Columba told me what to do if I was too tired to say prayers at the end of the day. She told me it would be just enough to say Thank You that I am still around to say it. Over the years, my own commuted prayer in times of weariness and often thankfulness has simply been "Thank You for loving me", which seems to me to be what Thanksgiving is all about.

"Hard Times Come Again No More"  Paolo Nutini (with The Chieftains)

"Thanksgiving"

"For each new morning with its light,

For rest and shelter of the night, 

For health and food,

For love and friends, 

For everything Thy goodness sends."

(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

"One in three"

There is very little that I could reasonably add to the (necessarily) chillingly matter of fact  promotionals for this October's "Stand Up To Cancer" campaign. The most current international research confirms that one in three of all of us will be affected by some form of cancer during our lives, regardless of sex, age or location. Picture yourself at church, in a shopping centre, at the cinema or on a train; anywhere you might be gathered with a hundred people or more and reconsider this statistic. Cancer decimated both my mother's and father's families and continues to sink it's disrespectful fingers into the lives of me and mine. I can't think of a more worthwhile post to add to this blog right now. Please click the link further down this page for information about the campaign, to visit the SU2C online shop and for ways to donate. 

Thanks x

ABOUT STAND UP TO CANCER

Channel 4 and Cancer Research UK have joined forces to launch Stand Up To Cancer in the UK.

We’re calling on the nation to join the brightest stars in entertainment, to work together to raise money to accelerate cancer research. So we can bring forward the day when all cancers are cured.

It’s a critical time. We have the knowhow to make rapid advances in the treatment and prevention of cancer. We just need more money. That’s where Stand Up To Cancer comes in, by raising funds to turn breakthroughs in the lab into breakthroughs in our hospitals.

Thanks to everyone who helped make last night's Stand Up To Cancer event such a success.

The total amount we've raised so far is £6,483,995! Thank you to everyone who's got involved and donated. But remember, if you haven't already it's not too late...

You can continue to Stand Up To Cancer by donating, fundraising, buying our merchandise, shouting your support from the highest mountain, or your nearest social network..

(Copyright SU2C)    

http://www.standuptocancer.org.uk

(Last night's fundraising event on Channel 4 may not have been been entirely my idea of entertainment, but it was incredibly moving and heartwarming. It was also lovely to see Leona Lewis perform Snow Patrol's anthem "Run" with The Big C Choir.

The choir have been together for only three months and many members had never previously sung in public. It's singers range from ten to eighty years of age; all thirty two members are currently, or have recently been, in treatment for cancer. Some had just been diagnosed when they joined the choir, some are now terminally ill, some are in remission.
The Big C Choir is the fifth choir to have been put together by the Welsh based charity "Tenovus". Originally started in 1943 by an initiative of ten Cardiff businessmen, Tenovus grew as a local charity responding to a variety of social needs and concerns. It was the charity's funding which enabled the development of Tamoxifen and Zoladex, now used worldwide to treat breast and prostate cancers respectively. Now a major cancer charity, Tenovus also runs a Freephone Cancer Support Line - 0808 808 1010. 
The Big C Choir was created especially for the Channel 4 programme "Sing For Your Life", one of the most inspiring pieces of TV I've watched in a long time. Pioneering research carried out by Tenovus has shown that singing is beneficial to the patients' state of mind, also appearing to reduce pain. Recent research on The Big C Choir indicates that the group's lung strength improved along with increased social function and mental health: singing on prescription please!)

http://www.tenovus.org.uk

"Run"  Leona Lewis and The Big C Choir

"May you be blessed in the holy names of all those
Who, without you knowing it,
Help to carry and lighten your pain."
(John O'Donohue)