Last week I gave a talk at Loretto Senior School in Edinburgh, which I enjoyed enormously. The students I met were committed and reflective, and we managed to experience a moment of real peace – uplifting peace – in beautiful surroundings. It was therefore fitting that I should encounter there a Gaelic Blessing which is all about peace; beginning with ‘Deep Peace of the Running Wave to you, Deep Peace of the Flowing Air to you…’, it continues in this vein to encompass the whole of the earth and beyond, and is, quite simply, beautiful.

John Rutter, the great British composer, wrote an extended version of the blessing, which has been recorded by various groups around the world, including his own Cambridge Singers; delving deeper, however, the most interesting analysis of the blessing I found was by another contemporary composer, this time American – Z Randall Stroope. In his analysis of the origins of the Gaelic Blessing, he explores the original Gaelic and its traditional translation into English:

May the peace of the wave always be with you

May the peace of the sky (air) always be with you

May the peace of the quiet land always be with you

A deeper probing of the original language reveals, though, that it contained other meanings which enhanced the notion of peace around us – ‘wave’, for instance, also has connotations of ‘good news’, because, historically, ships brought with them news on the waves. An understanding of the original context of the words adds to the impact of the whole today.

Research in the field of neuroscience increasingly shows that we react to words not simply in the ‘language’ areas of our brains, but in the areas which relate to the experiences that they describe. The more we understand by each word, therefore, the greater the depth of the experience that we will have when we read or hear it. This is why story-telling is so important – a narrative evokes memories and makes connections. We learn to walk in other people’s shoes; we learn – as long as we are open to this – to understand others.

If ever there was an argument for learning as much as we can about the world around us – past and present, near and far – then this is it. Education and learning matter; an openness to experience, thought and imagination will take us on journeys of the mind that can equal and surpass the physical journeys that others have taken ahead of us. The more we can delve into meanings and stories, the more we will make connections that help us genuinely to make those leaps of understanding which allow us to accept others – wherever and whoever they are.

If what we seek is ultimately world peace for our next generations, then surely education is our starting point.

A great profile article on Dame Ann Dowling appeared earlier this week in The Independent, and – as is to be expected in a piece on a fascinating and successful person of our times – it makes for really interesting reading. We can learn so much from other people’s lives: the twists and turns of life events that have affected them, the motivations and inspirations that have driven them, and the day-to-day issues that concern them now. When we practise seeing the world through the lives of others, it adds a depth to our own understanding of society around us; we cannot fail but to be enriched.

As an engineer – and Head of Engineering at the University of Cambridge – Dame Ann Dowling has, understandably, a passion for the subject, and is keen to make sure that engineering is seen as central to society. For years, engineering has arguably suffered from an image problem, to the extent that a society-wide shortage of engineers is becoming apparent; strenuous efforts on the part of Professor Dowling, her peers and many others connected with engineering are being made to try to redress the balance. Demystifying engineering – which is part of what this article seeks to do – is a step forward in this respect. After all, engineering is essentially just all about “how things work”.

The main reason for the profile, however, was that Dame Ann Dowling has just achieved another ‘first’ – she has just been made the first female President of the Royal Academy of Engineering. One sometimes wonders what those feminists of the 1970’s must think, when – almost half a century later – we are still experiencing the phenomenon of ‘the first woman to …’. At what point, they may ask themselves wearily, will this end? At what point will we celebrate achievements of individuals regardless of their gender?

Whatever the future answer turns out to be, we know that the moment is not yet upon us; we have further still to go until ‘the first woman to …’ is consigned to the archives of history. Yet there are shoots of hope springing up, and visibly flowering even in Dame Ann Dowling’s ‘first woman to …’ profile. As she herself says, “I guess I don’t really just define myself as being a woman. All I’ve tried to do is the things that really interest me.”

We move onwards to the future with that thought in mind.

Malala Yousafzai is clearly a remarkable young woman. She has faced death, yet refused to give in to fear and continued danger, and she is now working hard not only towards her own education, but also to raise awareness and create opportunities for children across the world – especially girls – to receive an education of their own. She is also, of course, the youngest ever winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. She is indeed remarkable.

She is also remarkably liberated. She has a platform from which to address the world, and this platform has been created for and by her because of a series of actions and life events, which she – often with the help of others – has used to free herself to be able to speak out and make a difference. She has, in other words, become liberated, and when we reflect on this, we can understand with greater insight the part that we have all played in helping her to achieve this, and the part we still have to play in helping her – and ourselves – to pursue the goals which she so eloquently expresses.

Malala came from a family that valued education, as they owned a chain of schools; family heritage played a founding role in who she was to become.  When she speaks, she pays tribute to her father, who she says encouraged her to learn and to be herself; her father says the same. She first came to world attention because she chose to write an anonymous blog about the trials of living under the threat of Talibanisation; the BBC enabled her to spread this word. The gunman’s bullet was, too, a dreadful form of liberation – it sent shockwaves across the world, and mobilised public revulsion. Worldwide care and attention to her case brought her to the UK, to hospital and thence to school in Birmingham. In her short life so far, she has – amazingly and wonderfully – been enabled to become liberated in her action and in her communication.

Listening to her speak, one cannot fail but to sense the power that this liberation brings. Malala knows that people will listen to her, and her voice is strengthened as a result. She knows that she has an audience, and that what she says will be reported. This is why, in giving her first reactions to her Nobel Peace Prize, she called for conciliation between the governments of India and Pakistan, inviting the leaders of both nations to stand alongside her and her fellow Peace Prize Winner, Kailash Satyarthi, at the awards ceremony. Everything that has happened to her in her life so far has brought her to this point – one of many on her journey, we can be certain – that seek to move the world forward. And we can take pride in what we have done to help her get her here.

We must be careful not to paint Malala as a super human, or some kind of angel. She is a young woman, full of the glorious imperfections that we all share. Her liberated determination to speak out, however, is an inspiration to us – and an affirmation, too. What she can do, so can other young women; what we have done for Malala, we can do for others.

Malala liberated is a beacon of hope for others and for us all. If we listen carefully, we can almost hear the chains starting to break across the world.

Today, as we hear the news that Malala Yousafzai has been jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for her efforts to speak up for the education of girls, people all over the world – girls, boys, men and women – are celebrating the International Day of the Girl. This is a day when we remember how much still needs to be done in the world to ensure that there is gender equality; and if anyone was in any doubt about the horrors and dangers that result from gender inequality, then they need only look at the news emerging from Iraq, as IS militants are reported to be raping girls, selling them into slavery, burying them alive, and turning into terrible reality their perceptions of girls as unequal beings.

Gender inequality is by no means restricted to small pockets of the Middle East – it is all around us, and when we scratch beneath the surface of domestic violence, of pay gaps, of imbalances in representation amongst policy-makers, we can find deep-rooted inequality. By drawing attention to the power of the girl – the human being who is most likely to suffer in war, disaster and poverty – we are saying that we can think, do and be differently as a human race, if only we value our girls.

It is common sense that if we value and treat all people with respect, we will have a world with more respectful, tolerant and equal relationships. The excesses of human depravity currently directed at so many girls in so many parts of the world tell us that this is an urgent task; our deepest fear in this respect is that if people, families and communities become so torn apart by what they experience, then at some point the damage that is caused will become irreparable and we will descend irrevocably into hatred, fear and cruelty.

We cannot allow this to happen. Our girls, though, are the answer; celebrate and empower them today.

Yesterday, at the annual Scottish Learning Festival in Glasgow, attended by 4,000 delegates, the Scottish Education Secretary, Mike Russell, announced a Children and Young People’s summit in Scotland. Although neither the format nor the timing of the event is clear as yet, the announcement was broadly welcomed – and with reason. The engagement of young people in the recent Scottish referendum was uplifting: of the 3.6 million voters (a fantastic 85% turnout rate nationally), over 100,000 were 16 and 17 year olds, voting for the first time, and the quality of their thinking and reflection became clearer and clearer as the day of the referendum approached. This kind of political engagement, in a demographic frequently accused of being politically apathetic, was absolutely to be welcomed, and is most certainly to be encouraged for the future.

In fact, what was noticeable about the weeks and days running up to 18^th September was how engaged all young people were in the issue, from the youngest to those verging on adulthood. 11 year olds were heard to declaim their views passionately; 5 year olds were seen gleefully pointing out and counting ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ signs in the windows of houses. (It was a Literacy and Numeracy specialist’s dream.) I was approached, even, by a 3 year old who asked me what I was going to vote; when I turned the question round and asked him what he thought, he was able to tell me exactly what and why. It does not matter that in all likelihood these were the views of his parents – what matters is that politics was at last seen as something that meant something to young people, and that they were engaged with it.

We often underestimate young people; and, to be fair, not all of them always do themselves favours in trying to make the wider world think differently. As someone who has worked closely with young people for two decades, however, I believe firmly in the potential of the young to think intelligently and with tremendous, enormous creativity. Often, they refuse to be hidebound by the restrictions we place on ourselves, and will not accept the argument that ‘it can’t be done’ … we need thinkers like this in our society, and we should encourage their involvement as we challenge them to find solutions. By giving them responsibility – be it in a Summit or otherwise – we will help them to develop their own sense of responsibility, and they will be enabled to embark sooner rather than later on the path towards global citizenship.

What have we to lose?

Courtesy of the lovely people at Google, I recently attended a super evening event at The Secret Herb Garden, on the outskirts of Edinburgh, at the foot of the Pentland Hills.  This herb nursery – which, in addition to growing and selling all varieties of herbs, also runs courses in painting, flower arranging and other crafts, and boasts a bee observatory – is the brainchild of owners Hamish and Liberty, who live on site with their four children and umpteen animals, and who have clearly embraced whole-heartedly the concept of lifelong learning from the world around us.

It was impossible not to be caught up in the enthusiasm bursting from Hamish as he guided us around the project, and although areas within it were beautifully arranged, he was equally enthusiastic about the herbs in the wilder sections, including dandelions, whose medicinal benefits he reeled off. A dandelion in full flower, held up in the sky, he explained, is like the sun to us, and as it turns to white seed, it becomes like the moon; within the dandelion is all day and all night – a complete salve and healer for us … and all of this, incredibly, lies within what we often dismiss as a ‘weed’.

Listening to Hamish, and watching my fellow attendees, I was reminded very strongly that there is so much to learn from nature, and that unless we deliberately curtail or neglect our natural – child-like – instincts to explore and discover, then our learning in this respect, as in every respect, will never cease. We live in an amazing world, some of whose magic we risk losing because we do not pay it enough attention, and some of whose magic we have yet to find. So … open your eyes as you go out today, breathe in the air, and see what wonders you can uncover. Learn from the world around you!

It is almost universally accepted now that the decline in the numbers of bees is of great concern to humanity as a whole. Loss of habitat, use of pesticides, climate change … there are many reasons for the decline in bees, and we should most certainly be worried – not just for the bees, but for ourselves. Some sources estimate that as many as 1 in 3 mouthfuls of the food we eat is reliant to some degree on bees and their pollination, and – whether or not Einstein actually uttered this warning, as he is reputed to have done – it is feared that if bees do disappear, then humans risk dying out within the following few years. As the hidden workers of the plant procreation world, bees are far more important than we have perhaps recognised until recently.

I rescued our first bee the other day, and it was surprisingly simple; I thank an old school friend for showing us how. If you come across a bee which is perhaps not moving, or is rather bedraggled, then pick it up gently by sliding it on to your hand, using a leaf if necessary. Once on your palm it will probably flatten itself out so as to pick up the warmth from your skin. Keep it dry and safe; offer it sugar water (not honey) if you are able to, and protect it until it is ready to fly away. It is quite astonishing to see these majestic insects revive and fly away, when 10 or 20 minutes before they were still or struggling.

As humans, we have a responsibility to look after this planet, and it should be no cause for surprise that if we look after other elements upon and within it, they in turn will look after us. If we care for the bees, they will continue to pollinate the plants we and other animals need to survive.

Every day, we can do something to help our immediate environment, and our short and long term future. It is our duty and our responsibility, and we – and the world – will reap the rewards.

Help a bee today.

This being August, it is Festival month in Edinburgh, and the city is bursting with events and performances under the auspices of a number of different major festivals. Amongst these is the International Book Festival, which brings together a host of authors, illustrators and publishers in a rich programme of talks and workshops, and yesterday I went to listen to Martin Brown, illustrator of the Horrible Histories series (aka ‘History with the Horrible bits left in’).

In a talk peppered with horrible facts from the First World War, given a comic spin which in no way lessened their impact (on the contrary, in fact), Martin Brown showed the audience how easy it was to  draw. Making the point that if we can write, then there is no physical impediment to us drawing, he showed how easy it was to create a picture. Pictures – he repeated with emphasis – do not have to be realistic. In fact, for most of our human history, we have enjoyed artistic renderings which are far from realistic, but which are nonetheless meaningful and representative of people, things, emotions, events – everything, in fact. Pick up a pencil, place it on the paper, and just draw – we can all do this and should not be held back by some sort of notion that we can’t. Just do it.

Each of us can (and should) draw – but in order to draw very well, we also need to practise. Martin Brown made this point equally clearly. Keep drawing, keep learning, keep observing, keep drawing some more, and you will get better and better at it. Practice does make a difference – hard work, persistence and lots and lots of practice. Practise, and you will extend your range and your ability. Practise, and you will enjoy drawing even more.

Such clear and refreshing messages – believe you can, and you will … and work at it to become the best you can be.

What a great way to start the week!

Great stories, told simply, are powerful – and the story of Eric Lomax (the Railway Man) is exactly this. I have not seen the film, starring Colin Firth and Nicole Kidman; rather (and possibly better) I recently read Eric Lomax’s book, and I found it both moving and inspiring.

The story is now well-known: as a child, Edinburgh-born Lomax developed a passion for locomotives and railways, and with dreadful irony was later, during the course of WWII, forced to work on the infamous Burma-Siam railway. He was tortured terribly when his captors suspected him of being a spy, and years later, having survived, he sought to track down one of his tormentors. His tale is as much about this journey as about any of the other journeys detailed in the book.

Books like The Railway Man remind us not to forget the shocking realities of war, which are so easily muted by time or glossed over in the media to protect our sensibilities. Possibly, too, we have become far too inured to these horrors through video games and films which trivialise or glorify violence; stories like that written by Eric Lomax dismantle our nonchalance. War, torture and cruelty continue to fragment societies across the world, destroying the lives of individuals, families and communities – if we forget or deny this, we are ill-placed to resist and counter their advance.

Most especially, though, this book is testimony to the power of human endurance and of the human spirit. In reading the chapters, we are drawn into an understanding of intensely strong resilience in the face of almost certain death, and of incredible resilience as the author learns to transcend the evils he has encountered, and to forgive.In The Railway Man, the reader is reminded too that each life is rich and unique, and is to be valued. We have much to share and learn from one another, and when we do so we in turn become uplifted and empowered to be better versions of ourselves.

It goes without saying – it is a book worth reading.

Our newspapers and television news are bombarding us at the moment – almost literally – with images of war and its dreadful effects. Whether the images are from the streets of Gaza or from the fields in Ukraine where Flight MH17 came down, we are confronted hourly with the horror and destruction that results when human beings choose to give into intolerance, hatred and anger. Heartbreakingly, 80 children (including 3 babies) were aboard MH17 – all killed. Reports from Gaza suggest that many children too are amongst the casualties.

This is in stark contrast with the dress rehearsal of the Opening Ceremony of the Commonwealth Games, which I attended on Saturday evening in Glasgow. Without giving too much away – for there will be some surprises on Wednesday night – it was an extremely good-humoured, warm and uplifting affair, with a strong sense of cohesion and togetherness that reached out and stretched across the continents of the world. The venue – Celtic Park, home to Celtic FC – has seen its fair share of intolerant behaviours in the past, and many of the countries of the Commonwealth have suffered too in their distant and recent histories from ethnic violence. The Commonwealth Games, however, through the shared endeavour that is sport, transcends these human difficulties and takes us to a better level of human co-operation.

Sport has the potential to heal divisions – for the competitors, it takes place in an arena where competition and mutual respect and tolerance join hand-in-hand, rather than exist in opposition. Sport can engage its spectators both in pride for their own team, but admiration of others. Neither, again, is mutually exclusive within the realm of sport. Unity and diversity can co-exist – can, indeed, be inextricably entwined. Sport proves this so.

Where sport leads, so other aspects of our human activity must – absolutely must – follow. The message is so, so simple – let us lay down arms and channel our energies into harmony, accord and union. Sport shows us that we have the human capacity to do so. How many more children must die in conflict before we realise this?