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How to Become Fully Alive with Elizabeth Oldfield

How to Become Fully Alive with Elizabeth Oldfield

The Sacred producer Daniel Turner turns the table on Elizabeth Oldfield, asking questions about her new book Fully Alive. 22/05/2024

Introduction

Elizabeth 

Hello and welcome back to The Sacred. My name is Elizabeth Oldfield, and this is a podcast about our deep principles and values, and how we can grow in empathy and curiosity for people different from ourselves.

However, this is the beginning of a special, one–off, themed series around my book, Fully Alive: Tending to The Soul in Turbulent Times, so we’re switching things up a little bit. The book is part memoir, part manifesto for how we might live deeper, wiser lives and be becoming the kind of people I think the world might need. I’m going to be grilled by our producer about it in a minute, but it might be helpful to know that part of what I’m trying to do is to translate some theological ideas from my tradition, from the place I get my principles and values – the main place I find wisdom right now and steadying in these turbulent times. But translate them. Translate them for people who might not be familiar with them. For people who might actually have some suspicion or some scepticism that religion in general, or Christianity particular, has anything to offer for these times or has any wisdom to bring us. And if that’s you, I am really delighted that you’re here. Lots of our guests are not coming from the same place as me, and I am really looking forward to chewing over these things and being in conversation with them. And one of the key things, ambitiously, that I am trying to translate and really set myself a challenge, is sin. I know we have some terrible associations around it. It has very bad branding, and I think has been really misused. But I am with Francis Spufford, author of many best–selling novels, and also Unapologetic, who rebranded sin as the human propensity to ‘F things up’. I don’t know about you, that rings true in my life and in the lives of others. My shorthand for it is disconnection – the ways we disconnect from our own souls, from other people, from creation, and, yes, from the Divine. But I leave that bit right to the end of the book, for those of you who aren’t sure if you want to go there, and that is absolutely fine, I hope that you will stay with us.

 

So, in this series, I am kicking off by asking people, firstly, what does fully aliveness mean to them? And then I’ve asked these guests specifically to help me think through one of these themes. So, I spoke to Gretchen Rubin, who is an internationally best–selling author on habits and attention, and really chewed over with her, this frame around sloth or ‘acedia’ is this richer word, which I think is really about distraction, apathy, failure to attend to what’s important in our lives. And we had a lovely conversation. I spoke to Dacher Keltner, who is world expert on the history and the psychology of emotions – he wrote this amazing book on awe. And so, I put to him a theory about how transcendent experiences relate to what I use as a shorthand, gluttony – these numbing, addictive behaviours that I think we all use to take the edge off, to disconnect from ourselves and our feelings. We had such a juicy conversation about that. So, the episodes will be structured around the seven deadly sins, but we’ll also, as always, on The Sacred, just be really trying to understand the guest in front of us – their values, their journey and their story. It’s been really wonderful; I can’t wait to share some of those conversations with you. But for today our producer, Dan, has joined me. You may remember him from our Q&A episode earlier in the year, and he is going to ask me some questions about the book. Hi, Dan!

 

What cultural moment are we in?

Daniel Turner

Hi Liz, first, I just want to say I’m really excited for the book. I’m really glad that, when this goes out, it’s going to be released tomorrow. So, yeah, I’m really excited that and glad that we’re able to talk about it in the context of The Sacred, the podcast, and how these two worlds, sort of, collide. So yeah, the first question that kind of came to mind as I was reading through the book: you start the book with this beautiful story about you being in the car with your family and listening to ‘When I Grow Up’ from Matilda the musical. And you have this really emotional experience to the lyrics, hearing your daughter singing the song, and just the hope in the lyrics of what the future is going to be like in the eyes of a child. I’ve been listening to the song today, and every time I listen to it, I start tearing up as well – you can’t really help it. And you go on to say that the reason you felt really emotionally stirred by the song was because of a sense of, I guess, almost despair that you were feeling towards the world, that we’re in, the world that your children are going to be growing up in, and that this is something that those, both with kids and without kids, can relate to, that there is a sense of despair for the future. So the first question is just, this book has been written to address a cultural moment that we’re in, and you did a bit of introducing that now, but I thought I’d just give you some space to describe what that moment might be a bit more. 

Elizabeth 

Thank you. I’m really intrigued by how people react to this, because I never know how much it’s about the filter bubbles that we’re in, right? I know, actually, that some of my friends who are who are half a generation or a generation older than me maybe don’t feel this, don’t have this sense of background apocalyptic mood music. So it’s really hard to tell how widespread it is, but my hunch is pretty widespread, particularly for people in their teens and twenties and thirties. This sense that the world we are inheriting and the world that we are leaving is not in great shape, that we have forgotten how to be together, trust is fraying, we are increasingly divided, the climate is in really big trouble. And knowing how to live, knowing how to be, knowing how to not just be overwhelmed with fear and anxiety or numbing and distraction, which are my kind of two unhealthy poles that I can go to, but be someone with some steadiness. One of the very early inspirations was something that an earlier guest on the podcast, Vanessa Zoltan, said when I asked her about this. She said, ‘I try and focus on what are the kind of people we need to be if it is the end of the world?’. It’s probably not the end of the world, but it might be the end of the world as we know it, and at some point, it will be the end of the world. There will be a generation of people who like at the end of the Roman Empire, like when the Black Death swept across Europe. There are these moments where civilization buckles, where things change radically and catastrophically. And asking myself that question, knowing how little I can actually control, how little I can actually fix, felt related to that old prayer that they use in the recovery movement – ‘Lord, help me to have the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference’. And it felt like the thing I can change is my character, is my ability to be brave and kind even when I’m scared. In my tradition, that call to love your neighbour is so central, and it felt like this ambient, apocalyptic fear in the in the culture, was making me less likely to love my neighbour. And so, I just started with this: I want to put my roots down deep, I want to find some steadiness of soul. And I found amazing resources for that in this sort of inherited tradition that’s in the background of our nation.

 

Are things getting better or worse?

Daniel Turner

It’s interesting, because for those who listen to the podcast regularly, they will know that The Sacred itself was set up for a similar reason back in 2017 we’re now one–hundred–and–fifty guests plus into the show, that was also kind of birthed into a specific cultural moment. Do you think that things over the past seven years have changed – gotten better, gotten worse, stayed the same? What’s your reflection on that and where’s the overlap in terms of what you hope the book and the podcast will achieve? 

Elizabeth 

The sacred was a response to that huge spike in division that we saw in 2016–2017 and it still is the very heart of what I’m interested in. The chapter on wrath really unpacks what I think is driving some of that division and polarisation and the practices and the postures that I have found massively helpful – a lot of which I’ve learned from doing this podcast. Again, it’s really hard to tell, because every generation always thinks things were better in the past, right? And I think we need to name what has changed for the good – that here is a lot of deeper understanding of things that we didn’t know, there is now a much higher awareness of what’s going on with the climate. Some of the real spikes of the most toxic edges of cancel culture and the ways that some of that navigating this new awareness of identity led to some unhealthy postures, I think, that’s ebbing a little bit. People have realised that sustaining that level of moral purity and requiring that level of moral purity of everyone out everyone in public life, and then feeling terrified that you won’t meet the standards of moral purity from an external audience – I think that’s maybe getting better. I don’t think that we could say that geopolitics or the climate context is getting better, or our ability to love each other. My hope is that what this moment does – I also work as a coach and with some pastoral things and moments of moral profundity, like when you have a child, or you get married, or you get a terrible diagnosis, or you have a brush with mortality. These things force our values to the surface and make the question of, ‘who do I want to be becoming, and how do I want to live?’, more salient and easier to actually remember and to try and act around. I wonder if there one way that we could react to this moment is to see it as extremely clarifying. We do not want to keep going down this path. It’s going to take some high–level of intention and courage and a willingness to sacrifice some comfort and convenience to change the way that we are setting up society. But it is possible, rather than just drifting into a place we don’t want to go. 

 

How long have we been in social decline for?

Daniel Turner

It’s interesting, it’s a despairing sort of thought. But one thing I sort of think about when we talk about almost apocalyptic kind of narratives is this sense that these things don’t happen overnight. So how long do you think this has been going on for? When would you pin a start to this sort of social decline?

Elizabeth 

It’s really going to depend on your perspective, right, what your vision of a good political theology is, or, you know, depending on who you talk. If I talk to friends and guests on the right or friends and guests on the left, they all think we’re in decline but for really opposite reasons! So we are all so located, and so partial in our view. But I sometimes think about, if you look back on the 20th century, you had this dark first half, and then what are often called the ‘Trente Glorieuses’, the thirty glorious years of peace and prosperity. You see all of these international collaborative institutions built, welfare states rolling out across the Globe (to an extent) and then the 70s and 80s feeling more turbulent again – nuclear crises, mass strikes, the fracturing of the Soviet Union. And then there was a window in the 90s, and it’s probably why my generation feels it, because there was a window after the Berlin Wall fell where the end of history thesis was really big. It was just like, we have done it. We are democratic, we are rational, we have thrown off the shackles of the past, and it’s this onward and upward trajectory of human progress. Then you hit 9/11 and the way that the level, the strangeness is still, for a lot of us, not feeling like something that really happened, but something out of a film – that visual, symbolic fracture in the onward and up trajectory of the West, essentially. My guess is that, since the early 2000s this sense of, ‘Wait, what are we doing and who are we becoming?’, and ‘This feels out of control, but let’s just buy more stuff and distract ourselves with social media. Oh, that is not helping.’ loop has been from then. But that’s a very back of the envelope political theory!

 

Optimism & Back to The Future: Can we find wisdom in isolation?

Daniel Turner 

I went to see Back to the Future at the West End recently with my wife…

Elizabeth 

Which is so fun, by the way!

Daniel Turner 

It’s such a good musical and the doctor is absolutely brilliant! But one thing I realised was, Nikki, my wife, hadn’t seen the films, so I got her to watch it beforehand. And one thing that I really noticed in it, and it made me really nostalgic for the 80s – which I never lived in, it was just this tech optimism. And when I was watching I was just like, gosh, you know the idea of being able to travel to the future…

Elizabeth

And the future being a good place that we want to be.

Daniel Turner 

Yeah, exactly! And the idea that technology is actually going to, maybe not be what saves us, but that it’s going to do so many brilliant things.

Elizabeth

Be good for humans?

Daniel Turner 

Right! And I think there’s still an element of that being the case. But with all the AI stuff I find, at least around the office and stuff, there’s a lot more kind of tech gloom conversations that are going on. So, yeah, I thought that was that was interesting. I’m going to give you a couple quotes from the book, which really stood out to me. So, the first one is, “The stories that used to orient and guide us, handed down through generations, of our ancestors seem to have got lost in transit”, and then a little bit later you write, “I’m drawn to wisdom, there are millions of places to look for this now the world is at our fingertips.” And I had a couple of thoughts there, that we seem to be in a weird sort of juxtaposition of there’s so much wisdom to go around, and yet we’re also feeling significantly, at least in the West, less wise as a society. And one of the thoughts I had with what at least I was noticing there is that, and it’s definitely central to your thinking and your way of life, which is that wisdom isn’t an isolated sort of endeavour. It’s something that comes about through community, as you mentioned earlier. Whereas nowadays, we might be in the kitchen doing the dishes, putting our earphones on and listening to Stephen Bartlett talk to us for an hour and dropping wisdom on us in that way, or we might be, you know, snuggled up in bed reading a book by Katherine May. And there’s nothing wrong with those ways of gaining wisdom but they are as much as many people might be doing them together, they are isolated endeavours. They are you sitting by yourself, gaining wisdom, as opposed to what many people, or most people, would have had before in society, which is gathering together in communal settings and kind of soaking in wisdom together. So, there is that community structure, which we know in many ways has been lost. So, I thought it would just be good to hear more from you about how you understand that relationship between relationships, community, and wisdom. And I suppose even though the podcast sort of falls into that maybe more isolated setting, and same with the book, what is your hope with both of them in terms of fostering community and fostering a sense of going out and finding people to search for wisdom with? 

 

Individualism is at the heart of our problems

Elizabeth 

Yeah, it’s very much the centre of the Pride chapter is this: I think individualism is at the heart of so many of our problems, that the anthropology that we’ve been given that we are, you know, discrete selves, right? That we are rational, optimising consumers; that we are self–creators, is poisoning us. And I’ve lost faith in the whole concept of an individual. I think I’ve lost faith in the concept of it being possible to become wise outside of committed, in my language, covenant communities. Because so much of wisdom is self–knowledge, not in that slightly narcissistic navel gazing way, but actually in this, I think, spikier but more effective way, which is coming to an awareness of our darkness, and in my language, of our sins – of the of our tendencies to disconnection, of our tendencies to pull away from each other. You know, my definition of fully aliveness is his connection, is relationship with our own soul, with other people, with the earth and with the Divine. And sin is everything that gets in the way of that, and to be trying to do that alone – it’s not a worthless endeavour, but it’s like, you know, learning about swimming from a textbook and never actually getting in the pool. This human interaction, human relationship, learning, in my language, to love our neighbours as ourselves, to seek each other’s good. You know, Iris Murdoch says love is the very difficult realisation that someone other than ourselves is real, and that is it. You know, Buber says, “All living is meeting”, the moments between us are all that is really real. And I do, when I think of what has kind of been behind this spiritual distress that we’re living in. I think, as part of our right desire to liberate ourselves from kind of authoritarian, coercive forms of belonging that you also see in heavily communitarian societies, we have gone far, far too far, and have lost the habits of really being together in long term in committed ways. And it’s making us incredibly lonely as well as a bit foolish. 

 

The social implications of our private actions

Daniel Turner 

Yeah, that got me thinking. You’ll remember a couple of weeks ago, we were at the pub with our colleagues, and we were talking about the recent government legislation, which I don’t think has passed just yet, but that’s going through Parliament about the tobacco ban. And I was getting into my usual libertarian antics, which all appreciate, and going off on one about, you know, it’s not, not for the government to tell people whether or not they can smoke and all of that fun stuff that people love and… 

Elizabeth

Just one of those differences were always navigating our way around! 

Daniel Turner

Yeah, exactly. One more opinion, which you’re yet to soften! And I asked a question, which one of our colleagues gave a really good response to where I said, “Should I have the right legally, should I have the freedom to destroy my own life?” Which is kind of, I think, in a sense, where the crux of this conversation gets down to. And his response, which, you know, is not the complete debate on this topic, but I thought it was a really helpful response, and reflected a lot of the points that you’re making in your book, where he said, “Perhaps, but we also need to understand that we don’t live in isolation. We don’t live as individuals.” So, the harm that you are committing to yourself has a social implication, it has implications on your family, on your friends, and all of those things. And so, you might consider smoking a lesser one, but in general and bringing it to your book, I suppose one thing that you do kind of comment on is the fact that you know sinning isn’t something that’s necessarily just done in private. There is a social impact to that, and that would be helpful for people to reframe their understanding of sin, to take into account the social implications of their actions, even ones that are seemingly done in private or only directly impact themselves. And so I guess my question for you is, in the book, what are other areas, perhaps, as well as this kind of communal view of sin that you think people have misunderstood about the topic of sin? 

Elizabeth 

Yeah, that is really helpful. And I think that goes to the heart of what I’m trying to get at, that if there is no such thing as an individual, which I believe, then none of our choices happen in isolation. They create these moral norms. We signal to each other about what is and isn’t appropriate. We create social permissions for things. We tell stories. We collectively create the choice architecture, you know, we create the imaginative possibilities within which we think we are, as free rational individuals, making decisions. And so, taking that really seriously, it is really part of my vision. And I think that relational understanding of sin is at the heart of it. Because when I was talking to a lot of people who you who understandably like, “why are you trying to do this? Sin is not a good concept to be trying to bring back into public understanding”, they often had associations with it, particularly if they bought been bought up in religious communities that had a different understanding of sin, with it being used as a cosh to beat people with, the sort of more neutral version of that is an understanding of sin that’s really within a very legal framework, right? It is falling short, missing the mark, failing to meet the standards that God might put for us. And that is very much one valid way to read the tradition and the understandings of sin. But I think if taught badly, does often leave this legacy of guilt and shame and fear, you know, and depending on your temperament, how that’s taught and how you receive that tradition, can really be quite difficult to navigate psychologically. My relational understanding of sin, which I have always felt intuitively but reading this book really dug into theologically and also a really valid way of reading the tradition is that sin is disconnecting from our own soul, pulling into ourselves from other people, withdrawing from intimacy, withdrawing from being honest and vulnerable and being seen and seeking each other’s good and taking seriously each other’s needs. You know, the Iris Murdoch thing about, “Love is the very difficult realisation that someone other than oneself is real.” You know, it then became something I wanted to resist because it was stopping me from being fully alive. You know that, if relationship is what we’re made for, if relationship – and you can argue this sociologically from neuroscience, right? It’s not just a theological position that humans are independent and interrelated, hypersocial, you know, so influenced by what other human beings think and do that we are barely…  Like when people talk about free will not existing, that’s a really complicated debate, but my like gut instinct of it is like, yeah, there’s no such thing as individual free will. All of our decision making is so collective, and when you put that in a theological frame, it can actually be really liberating and life giving, and be like, Okay, what are the choices I can make in my life, to stay connected to my deep self, my own soul, in my language, but also to be continually moving towards other people, seeking to love my neighbour in its most kind of blunt form. 

Daniel Turner 

I think that’s really helpful for thinking about internally combating your own sort of sinful inclinations, and the role that it plays in the community, I guess, on to flip it round, one question I would have is, how does the dynamic play out between then the community to a sinful individual? Being judgmental is a really complicated word, and sin in general, as you said, is really complicated. I think too often it just gets immediately drawn into the conversation of sexual morality. And that’s not to say that that isn’t a conversation that ought to be had, but if you’re only focused on that area, then you’re forgetting, you know, the billions of other ways that people can do something wrong.

Elizabeth 

Yeah, that’s the other bit about sin that I think really needed rehabilitating, that it’s commonly seen as something you see in others, and you finger point a new shame and you judge them. And the Jesus that I see in The New Testament is extremely enigmatic, but one of the clearest statements he makes is: Judge not lest you be judged, do not concern yourself with other people’s sin. It is not your business. Like leave that with me. Our work, our sole work, is to reflect on our own tendencies to disconnection, our own tendencies to withdraw into ourselves, to pull back on ourselves, to kind of become an ingrown toenail, which is the language that Luther and Augustine use. And I think that repositioning sin as a way to reflect on ourselves, rather than as a cosh to beat other people with, as a finger to judge other people with has been really key. You have previously challenged me on what this means socially, and I find that an interesting thing to reflect on, because we’re social, we can’t just reflect on our own stuff, right? That taking a position, even, can seem judgmental. It’s one of the things I worry about in the book is like saying what I think, even in the least judgmental tone I can think of, if someone’s made a different choice from me, hearing judgement, there is really easy, withdrawing from each other is really easy. And there is this role in my tradition, also that is prophetic, that has a very beautiful vision of justice that protects the poorest, the most vulnerable. You know, this quartet of the vulnerable comes up and again in the Hebrew Bible: the poor, the widow, the orphan and the stranger i.e. the kind of immigrant or the migrant or the sojourner. And being able to challenge injustice is a big part of my tradition. You know the prophets that say, ‘Woe to you, rich people who hoard your wealth and do not help the poor. Woe to you’, you know, ‘Those who do not help the orphan and the widow. Woe to you’, ‘Those that are oppressive and unjust’… That posture of being able to be non–judgmental and non–contemptuous towards people and their choices whilst actually having quite a high vision of what a just society looks like and inviting people into that, it’s quite a narrow way to walk.

Daniel Turner 

It’s even, I think, more difficult when you’re talking about relationships close to home, because, you know, again, there’s a lot of… So social justice might be a context in which you can say, okay, you’re speaking into the ills of society. And put that against you know, there’s a friend of yours who you see is being needlessly unkind to people in his life, and you want to question that and call them to account. Yeah, there is an element of, like, calling judgement on that action, not necessarily the person. So, I guess maybe there’s a distinction there that we make?

Elizabeth 

That in the context of a relationship is a really different thing, like distance finger pointing and judgement. I just don’t think anyone ever changes by being told that they’re a sinner or a, you know, a bigot or whatever is the thing we’re angry about them.

Daniel Turner

And so that’s where the community side really comes in?

Elizabeth

Yeah, because it’s a verse in Proverbs that says, “Correction from a friend is like honey, but kind words from an enemy is poison.” And actually, you know, one of the things I write about is living in community. To be in the relationships of intimacy and trust and respect, where you could say, ‘Mate, you’re better than this, like, I see you and I respect you and I honour you, and this thing that you’re doing is not worthy of the kind of person you want to be. Like, what support do you need to be becoming the kind of person that you want to be?’ That could be like, deeply transformational in someone’s life. I don’t think that’s at odds. We can have extremely high standards for what fully aliveness looks like, the love and the freedom and the joy and the intimacy and the openness of a life well lived. And fight for it, right? And fight for it for other people as well, which sometimes probably does sound quite challenging, but can also be just really brilliant!

 

What are you most nervous about for the release of ‘Fully Alive’?

Daniel Turner 

Yeah, I guess to shift gear a bit with the book coming out. It’s going to be out tomorrow, for when this episode drops. I mean, you’ve already mentioned that sin in general is not something that we anticipated coming back into the public lexicon. What are you nervous about? 

Elizabeth 

Yeah, I’m nervous about that. People have some real wounds, right? People carry baggage from spiritual communities, from families of origin. There are reasons why people are sceptical that Christianity has anything to offer. I wouldn’t want to be pressing on people’s bruises or be heard to be someone who doesn’t understand that complexity, you know, wanting to say wisdom and treasure in this tradition, which I want to translate. But also, I’m not an apologist for the worst the abuses of power that have been around the edges of this stuff. It’s very personal. It’s really unexpectedly more memoir than it started. I have this brilliant agent who is in no way a religious person herself and backed this project, despite the fact it’s a very strange thing to be wanting to do. But she said, if you want to talk about this stuff, Liz, people have to know who you are, because they have to trust you if they’re going to listen to you about something that’s a bit unfamiliar. And so, it has a lot of my life. And, because I’m quite an honest person, I’m very honest, I’m very frank, it’s very vulnerable – hope it’s helpful! And you know, as I alluded to, keeping my cards fairly close to my chest – It’s not like some great strategy, it’s because I’m just a deeply confused person. I’ve listened to too many people, and I no longer have very strong opinions about very many things! But this is something I have some strong opinions about. And being more direct about what I believe and my principles and my values and what I think fully aliveness is, even though I’m trying to do it with as much care and curiosity and openness in a conversation with other people as I possibly can. There’s this, you know, the ‘people like me syndrome’, which I talk about in the chapter on Wrath, that is one of the key drivers of division is hardwired and universal. And, unless we concentrate, we instinctively prefer people who agree with us, who are part of our tribe, who see the world in a similar way than we do. And the more direct I am about the way I see the world and my principles and values, the higher the number of people who have come to different conclusions will be. And there’s a relational risk in that, that my attempt to say it’s possible for us to build relationships of trust and respect, curiosity and openness across these differences. It’s a big ask of people, and not everyone will want to do it.

Daniel Turner 

Yeah, is there anything whilst writing the book that you changed your mind on, or were kind of surprised to discover that you believed, or I don’t know?

Elizabeth 

I sort of instinctively had the sense that my experience of the Christian ethic was very at odds with the public narrative of it. But having the chance to unpack that and land it as something that I think is quite feminist and at heart is about protection of the vulnerable and avoidance of imbalances of power, was really satisfying – controversial in places! And the chapter on money avarice, the like realisation of how baked into my tradition a strong distrust of the accumulation of wealth and the love of money is and how much as Christians, we generally ignore that bit. There are radically more verses about money than about prayer, like 200 times more verses about money than about sex. And yet we are complicit hypocrites in deeply unjust economic systems, and I am as acquisitive as the next person, and all of my tiny acts of resistance against that feel like a drop in the ocean, frankly, compared to what’s going on in my heart. Yeah,

Daniel Turner 

Yeah, so do not buy the book!

Elizabeth 

Yeah, that’s what I mean, it’s all so muddy!

 

What does it mean to you to be Fully Alive?

Daniel Turner 

Yeah. As a last question, I will turn the tables on you. I think it’s only fair, given that you’re going to be asking this difficult question to all of your guests, what does it mean to you to be fully alive? 

Elizabeth 

Yeah, it’s relationship. It’s connection. When I am neither numbing or ignoring or distracting myself from my own deep self and my soul from the truest, tenderest part of me, when I’m connected with that, when I’m connected with other people at the level of, “I thou”, as Martin Buber would say, you know, deep, intimate relationships of trust and respect, of covenant community, of sharing and cheering and carrying each other. And when I’m in loving connection with Love with a capital L, with God – the G bomb is what I call it at the end of the book, because it’s, you know, it’s there at the back for people who want to go there. But it’s what holds and frames everything else for me. When all those relationships – and with the natural world, that’s increasingly important to me. When all those relationships, all those matrices of connection, are healthy then I am fully alive.

Daniel Turner 

Lovely. Really looking forward to it coming out. 

Elizabeth 

Thank you so much for talking to me. And thank you so much for listening to this episode of The Sacred – our series introduction. We really look forward to speaking to you next week!

 

 


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Elizabeth Oldfield

Elizabeth Oldfield

Elizabeth is host of The Sacred podcast. She was Theos’ Director from August 2011 – July 2021. She appears regularly in the media, including BBC One, Sky News, and the World Service, and writing in The Financial Times.

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Posted 22 May 2024

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