Challenges are necessary for growth and can be, all consuming too.
My lessons are coming thick and fast.
I look at her and my heart feels heavy.
I can see her physical body slowing down and her struggle is undeniable.
I can feel her anger, her bitterness and her absolute mistrust.
I can feel her self rejection, her self loathing and her inability to say sorry.
Saying sorry would surely mean death-death of denial.
She offloads her pain and misgivings, on those around her often and then attempts to have them believe that they are the cause of her pain.
The wounded Mata.
Our learning roles, now reversed-I play the adult and she plays the small child once again (you treat me like I am a 2 year old) needy, self-rejecting and in her words, suppressed.
Last night we played her ‘survival technique’ game-“If it wasn’t for me!”
I know-I really do know mum and I’m truly grateful.
I have used this example on a previous post some time ago and I think it’s worth sharing again.
What role/roles do you play within your life? What role do you identify with most?
I play them all and to hold myself accountable, I switch between Rescuer and Victim.
Rescuer being my lead role and victim, an easy safe role to settle into.
Mother play’s the Victim role and of course the Persecutor with her acid tongue and relentless bitterness. Underneath that heavy brash armor is a woman of great love, strength and resilience, a survivor of life’s harsh lesson’s and a mother.
Jeez… she is definitely presenting me with heavy duty challenges on a daily basis that require patience, tolerance and most of all loving forgiveness.
Mr Benn, a man wearing a black suit and bowler hat, leaves his house at 52 Festive Road London, and visits a fancy-dress costume shop where he is invited by the shopkeeper to try on a particular outfit. He walks through a magic door at the back of the changing room and enters a world appropriate to his costume, where he has a adventure. There is always a moral to be learned from the story, before the shopkeeper reappears to lead him back to the changing room.
Mr Benn returns to his normal life, but is left with a small souvenir of his magical adventure.
As a child, Mr Benn was my favourite cartoon that aired on television from 1971 until 2005.
I just loved the idea that Mr Benn could be whomever he wanted to be depending on what outfit he chose to wear on that particular day.
Who would you be if you could choose any outfit right now?
I’m not sure that I’ve begun to grieve yet, or have I grieved for so many years that now, I’m able to manage this process feeling balanced and present, without being engulfed in sadness?
Is that what we do?
Manage our feelings?
Sounds so text book!
And of course, I’ve managed my feelings for many years, until it got to a point where managing wasn’t an option.
This writing process shall remain my saviour and isn’t it strange how we are able to share with complete strangers the essence of our soul. The high’s and low’s, the authentically raw material of our mind. The innocence, betrayal, the love and honor, our most intimate misgivings.
I am grateful for this space and I am grateful to you, for playing such a fundamental role throughout my healing journey, even though you may not be aware of that fact. I write, people read and to me, someone is listening, someone can hear me.
Everyday there is something new to wade through and I’m doing okay even though I can’t quite get my head around Bro not being here. It seems that maybe he’s just gone away for a while. His coats still hang in the hallway and his glasses sit on the side table, ready for him to read the weekly paper. His chair is softly indented and still raised up slightly, so that it’s easier for him to stand when ready. Shoes are sat in the exact same position of when he wore them last and pajamas folded neatly on his bed. The old crocheted blanket lays unused, an extra to keep him warm at night and Mum placed his clean and washed vest in the middle of the blanket, just in case he needs it.
I wonder if he has actually gone anywhere, I wonder what the hell has just happened, I wonder if I’ll wake up in a minute and it’s all been a terrible dream.
Aah… there they are, my tears of release, a little at a time. I wondered where they were too and now are falling freely and uninterrupted.
Oh Bro, if only you knew how much you were loved-are loved and the empty space you have left behind is huge.
Your presence is missed greatly.
You may never really know how much you love someone until they aren’t here anymore and the sheer impact that they have on your life.
I truly know that now Bro and I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you enough when you were here.
I’m sorry that I wasted time feeling hurt, angry and so damn stubborn.
Stubborn-and suitably matched.
Checkmate-only we both lose.
My advice to you all is this;
don’t leave things until it’s too late.
Don’t allow grievances to go on for a long period of time.
Don’t waste time with insignificance.
Try your very best to come from a loving place.
See things for what they are, not worse than they are.
We don’t often talk about the beauty of death because pain and finality takes precedence.
Over the past couple of weeks I’ve felt drained, emotionally and physically. Each day rolls into the next bringing fourth such an array of difficult emotions and to lose someone that I love dearly and in such a short amount of time is just devastating.
No time at all.
Making every day count is essential; oh… how I get that now! Experience all that you want to experience and truly know the absolute joy of being alive.
The hospice nurse explained that we would notice changes in his breathing, reminding us that he could hear us and that it was all okay, as she softly touched Bro on his shoulder.
It was okay-dying was okay-do not be afraid.
We asked if more morphine could be administered due to him appearing agitated as one arm would lift and drop to the bed, then the other, he would moan and slightly move his head. This happened several times.
Was he trying to communicate with us?
What did I miss?
Why didn’t I know and understand more after everything I had learn’t and read over the years?
Realizing now, the level of high expectation I always put on myself.
My mind constantly chatted to him, telling him things that I felt, he needed to hear and things that needed to be said between us.
A mutual forgiveness!
It was surreal, like a movie scene playing with us in it, but not of it-if that makes any sense?
Nothing seems to make much sense right now as the words fall from my mind and my fingers tap each letter on the keyboard.
I’ll just keep typing.
We wanted him to feel calm, pain free and safe.
Can you even feel safe when you are dying?
Was God with him?
At some point Mum laid his over sized silver and blue crucifix under his right hand and the Reverend said that God was near by, calling him home.
Morphine was given three times throughout the night, which I think I instigated, by sharing my thoughts with the others. I’m proud of the way we remained courteous to each other with regards to Bro on those occasions when making the decision to call the administering nurse, back into the room.
It was a time to tune into my internal all knowing, in order to do the right thing for Bro and I guess it’s something that could weigh heavily on my mind, if I allowed it to.
Mum broke down at one point and felt like she was murdering him by asking them to feed the driver with a stronger dosage and I had to reassure her several times that it was the best thing for him in order for to feel comfortable.
Just heartbreaking for her and for us too-poor Bro bless him, he probably wanted us all to bugger off and stop being so dam miserable.
His son, slept in the recliner for a couple of hours in the early part of the morning and that’s something I struggled with! Wouldn’t you want to spend every lasting second with the man that raised you knowing you’d never see him again?
My step father for 27 years.
A judgement on my behalf I know and I choose to keep that judgement right now as for the past two years, his son had written him out of his life and wasn’t interested at all.
The judgement will pass in time.
I knew that I couldn’t close my eyes and wouldn’t, no matter how exhausted I was. I had to honor his last breath and acknowledge this man as he returned to a place where he believed was home.
A return to love.
The nurse had told us that once we hear the rasp in his breathing, then it wouldn’t be long before he would pass and waiting for that rasp, was both unbearable and necessary.
How I wanted to hear that rasp, so he would finally be free and selfishly, the waiting was taking it’s toll.
Bro was diagnosed on the 29th of July, without his family to support him, sunk into a lonely depression.
He was so very afraid and COVID rules mean’t no visiting.
Day by day, Bro struggled to pay for the hospital television and phone system with his debit card with not being tech savvy at all. His calls were in short bursts with lots of tears, cutting off quickly mid sentence.
We couldn’t make head nor tail of what he was trying to say but tried hard to reassure him. It was an impossible situation which was horrendous for him and for us too, hearing his sobs, pleading with us to get him out of there.
I called his hospital bed phone daily-over and over again and couldn’t get through.
I called the ward several times and no one picked up the phone.
I called the elderly social work team several times desperate for help, complaining about the lack of communication. The first social worker who mum and I met, was only on call that weekend and when I tried to get through to her, she had gone on leave. The new one, promised she would call me back that afternoon after a meeting with regards to Bro.
She didn’t call back.
And so on… there’s so much more to say about the lack of, but right now in this very moment, there isn’t much point so maybe another day and another post.
The early morning came and I could see the distinct changes in his face and to me, he looked beautiful almost angelic. His skin was so very soft to touch as I gently stroked his hair across his forehead in the same way that I’d done for hours on and off.
As he breathed, his cheeks sucked in almost like a fish in the open air and it wasn’t labored like I imagined, it was gentle and quiet-just a small rasping sound, seemingly like he would stop at any moment and then another breath would come.
His son and wife stood up now and came close to the left of Bro, as if ready for a standing ovation, without the clapping part of course and Mum sat quietly weeping, holding his hand on his right side. My position was near his head side and his face was tilted our way. I felt it important to give his son the choice of changing places with me.
He declined, for which I am so grateful.
I kissed Bro’s hand and told him that the sun was shining, that I would meet him in his beautiful garden.
I told him that that he was free now, no more pain, struggle, crutches, hospitals nothing-just a free man to feel joy like he had never felt before.
I told him Banjo, his much loved dog who passed some time ago, was waiting for him and oh… what an amazing time they were going to have together.
I spoke to him in my mind and asked him;
“What are you holding on for Bro?”
and then it just came to me, as clear as day-as if he answered straight away!
“He’s telling me it’s too noisy!”
Bro had complained several times about the noise on the hospital ward and his inability to sleep.
The radio had been playing since he arrived at the hospice and the nurses must have put it on because it wasn’t something we had requested or did ourselves. It played quietly in the background. The oxygen machine was loud and as the nurse had said earlier in the evening that it wasn’t really helping him at this stage, so we agreed to have it turned off.
The space became instantly quiet and so very peaceful.
We opened the doors and with the early morning sun, Bro took his last breath.
It was five minutes from turning all the noise off.
There were no tears for me just a feeling of absolute peace and such a deep connection to his spirit. Bro taught me so many lessons right up until he passed and left his body. And that is exactly what he did… he left his heavy weighted, shell of a body behind and walked free. This has been my belief for as long as I was able to understand about life and death but now I have seen it with my own eyes and finally, I understand the lesson in all it’s entirety-it really is just a body and his body was an extremely painful body, a vessel to experience all the things that Bro needed to experience on his journey of life.
It happened the way it was always going to happen, the way it was mean’t to be.
We experienced forgiveness together at the highest level on both our parts.
We experienced love and a profound connection.
We experienced healing together and for that I will always be grateful.
Death can be beautiful if we allow the fear to fall away and remain present to all that is happening around us.
Death can be beautiful and allow you to see things more clearly when they seem so confusing.
Together, they have shared 27 years of living in sin (as my mother would say) and if I am to remain authentic and honest, for the past few months, I have just about tolerated him.
The most frustrating, stubborn and controlling man I know and also a man that has been in my life longer than my father was and who gave me so much love.
His words often do so much damage to my mother’s mental health well being and then in turn, her acid tongue would throw as much back and in more recent months, the idea of moving abroad felt like an escape from their unhealthy yet somehow committed relationship.
For months, I’ve been plagued with my own guilt at the thought of leaving them both.
My brother’s have never really liked him that much and in some way, he is just another version of my father only his addiction was food not drugs.
A massive man who weighed 28 stone at one point.
As a child, he was born into poverty, the kind of life where beds were shared with siblings, food was not plentiful and shoes were full of holes. His mother was abusive and life was extremely hard.
She ran off with another man without saying any goodbyes.
The youngest of four and a promising footballer who played for the England boys team as a teenager, his dream was to make it at a professional level. At age 19, whilst working a summer job with his brother on a farm, there was a terrible accident and he was trapped under a tractor.
The accident robbed him of his young healthy body and in turn gave him a life full of immense pain and disability and food filled the hole of where his dream once lived, self hatred ravaged his mind and he was told that he would never walk again.
He defied the odds, even walking into the ambulance two weeks ago, at the age of 77 with a semi smile on his face and telling both Mum and I that he loved us.
I now understand how desperately he tried to be a father figure to me and I wouldn’t let him in, I couldn’t-there was too much about his nature that I despised at times and on the other side of that, I have always known how much he loves me and has always been there when I needed help along the way, telling me often;
“It will come right in the end.”
Funny how you forget those times when you are so wrapped up in anger.
I hope he will forgive me…
Why did I leave it too long to tell him that I am so grateful for everything and that I am so sorry for the times that I chose not to forgive him-for the times that I too, was so incredibly stubborn.
After much back and fourth with his medical team, ranting and raving at the lack of communication, lack of support and lack of updated information, I finally arrived at his hospital bedside unannounced.
What I found was heartbreaking.
He was incoherent, rambling, soiled, unable to reach his drink as his table was too far away. His mouth was dry and sticky and he was semi lying on his back which is impossible for the pain in his spine. I tried to talk to someone but they were all too busy. I desperately needed answers and eventually the nurse who has been ‘dealing’ with him, arrived at his bedside and still, unable to answer my questions, told me that I needed to talk to the doctor.
After 50 minutes of waiting and nursing him myself, the Doctor finally came and told me that his kidneys are now failing too.
Within two weeks, I am now watching a yellow man die in front of me. His body is struggling with a large mass on his liver which has spread to his lungs. The fluid which is bypassing his damaged kidneys and liver, is now filling up his stomach.
He is so weak and sick.
I literally can not bare him being so frightened and disorientated.
He pleads with me to take him home over and over again.
The pain from all directions is absolutely suffocating.
I pray that he will fall asleep and gently pass and that his suffering will end.
Life throws us many curve balls and although the tears still flow momentarily, I feel incredibly peaceful.
For that I am grateful.
In a seemingly overwhelming situation, I am positioned in the middle and need to navigate and direct my family network with trusting the process and allowing, rather than resisting.
Over the last few days and having an intense internal dialogue, I am reminded of the sheer depth of possibilities that can happen when you ask for something that you so desperately need.
Like asking to be relieved of terrible physical and emotional pain.
The pain that you have endured for so long.
Ask and you shall receive.
I feel like I have come full circle and it’s quite profound!
I prayed a very long time ago and what a powerful prayer that was.
My prayer was answered.
Now I shall pray to lessen the fear of what lies ahead because fear is all consuming.
Pain, has been the message, a loud and powerful message.
The message was ignored and the pain got worse.
Pain is an indicator of something that needs to be addressed and to the extent you don’t pay attention, you pay with pain so never ignore pain, emotional or physical-it’s trying to tell you something important.
We can not escape what is mean’t for us on this journey called life and I believe that wherever you are right now, you are exactly where you are mean’t to be.
So take this precious moment, whatever the challenge may be and embrace it with the love and compassion that it deserves and hold on tight to the knowledge that you will make it through, whatever that means for you.
We too will make it through, whatever that means for us.
There is another side to it all, somewhere out there, somewhere different, some place beautiful, something new.
There is always a way through and it may not look like what you hoped it would be and know that there is something greater waiting for you.
When the outside world all becomes too much, there is a space inside where I seem to escape to.
Very deep within.
This authentically raw place allows me time to wallow, to reconnect, to embrace myself for a while.
Yes it can be terribly painful and also, strangely enough a resting place for my soul.
Mental health wellness is such a massive subject to talk about. There are many diverse twists and turns still to be discovered about how our mind works and different depths to an individuals own experience.
A subject so close to my heart and with my own personal experience in life, something I was previously afraid to share about me, myself and my own mental health struggles.
And the depth of them.
As a tiny person, I was immersed in the whole depression experience. I literally lived and breathed a depressed existence, daily.
I believe for me, that I learn’t how to do it and it’s not a chemical imbalance-not in the slightest.
My father showed me the way.
He would withdraw from the world and lie in bed for days.
His radio would be playing at his bedside and he didn’t seem to hear the music.
My mother lived her life in denial.
She would eat too much, that was her drug of use.
Stuffing down what needed to come up and out.
I retreat when necessary, mentally going inside to that place.
I wear my large earphones and listen to evocative music, allowing my mind to wander where ever it needs to go to feel deeply connected, just for a while.
Does this mean I feel depressed?
Yes sometimes and there have been noticeably longer periods of time when I have struggled to haul my mind and my body out of that place.
It can feel much safer to withdraw, than to move to a place of purpose.
I use food as my drug of use too.
We learn from our early caregivers how to be in this world and if you look at your own struggles, addictions and emotional traits a little closer, then you may notice the significance.
You will see that their difficulties are your difficulties, quite possibly dressed up differently but there will be obvious similarities.
They didn’t know any better and now that you know, you can always do so much better.
I have never been medically treated for depression.
Many years ago I entered into a counselling relationship where my mentor suggested that I struggled with mental illness. In that very moment, my mind flipped out for a few seconds-shocked and not accepting of her words, (remembering what my job role was) she went on to explain that it’s no different to when our bodies are poorly and may need to be treated with medicine-our mind can become ill too and needs treatment to get back on track.
Simple statement and may seem obvious, but it was the way she said it that made all the difference to how I thought about mental illness.
So today, I am no longer afraid to share that I struggle at times with a poorly mind that chooses to go deep within itself, to touch base, in order to come back out again and hear the music.
It seems to deepen me in to life.
Don’t be afraid to be proud of who you are and to speak your truth because sharing your story, your vulnerability, allows others to feel free to share theirs.
And… it allows your Soul to take a rest for a moment or two.
You and I are on a journey and who knows where we are going!
Your life is always speaking to you. It speaks in whispers, guiding you to your next right step. And in many situations, the whisper is also the first warning. It’s a quiet nudge from deep within saying, Hmm, something feels off. A small voice that tells you, This is no longer your place of belonging. It’s the pit in your stomach, or the pause before you speak, the goose bumps that raise the hairs on the back of your neck. Whatever form the whisper takes, it’s not a coincidence. Your life is trying to tell you something. Heeding these signs can open the doors to your personal evolution, pushing you toward your life’s purpose. Ignoring them-sleepwalking through your life is an invitation to chaos.
What have you settled for in life?
What dreams have you let go of in order to accept mediocre?
What is life trying to tell you?
I’ve spent years living in chaosand now I’m beginning to listen.
Are you ready-ready to hear the whispers?
Bembridge Downs-Isle Of Wight 2020
May the sun rise in your heart each waking morning and you know fully, what it means, to be alive.
Today is my Mothers 85th birthday and she is still as fierce with her words as she was many years ago.
We had one of our pretty much usual determined conversations yesterday and by determined I really mean that Mother accuse’s, passes judgement and then dismisses any chance of a re-trial and all determined by her imagination.
I know only too well how difficult it’s been for her over the past few lock down months, it’s been tough for everyone.
For as long as I can remember, my Mother has perfected playing the role of the victim.
It is always about her and how someone has mistreated her, misleading her, lying to her, not including her and so on.
It is such a shame because she is an incredibly strong lady, with unbelievable resilience, a great sense of humor (on a good day, well a very good day, that is) and can be the most loving Mother anyone could wish for.
There is a saying that we have said for many years about her and that is;
She will give you the shirt off of her back if she thought that it would help you.
And, there is a part of me that will tell you, its comes at a cost-a reminder of how much she has done for you, if it wasn’t for her… how she has been a “Dam good Mother” and the ultimate statement that I just have to write in capitals;
IF IT WASN’T FOR ME YOU WOULDN’T BE ALIVE
Um! What can I say accept;
Thanks Mum for my life.
I am so glad I survived, even though the odds were set against me.
Please don’t get me wrong I love my Mother so very much and on the other side of that statement, I have spent my life making up for, as she believes, loving my Father more.
So yesterday, I found myself at age 51 and 3/4 justifying my not spending time at friends houses and spending time at hers, when I’m supposedly isolating (keeping her safe) from her and others.
I’m not even sure what I just wrote made any sense (laughing out loud).
So I shall try again; that heated conversation came about because she read or saw something on Facebook, (yes Mother has face book and commonly refers toit as the Huddle, which is the name of the device she first had, in order to use the internet-argh!! My brain aches just trying to explain it) then made up a story in her head about what she thought she saw.
We often make up stories about situations that actually, we know nothing about or are the very least are missing the facts.
I wasn’t anywhere I wasn’t supposed to be.
When I called to say that I would like to make lunch for her today and we would have to sit in the garden due to social distancing, she went straight into the victim role and stated that I have been very distant over the past few months.
No mention of a Pandemic…
Mother also claimed that she knew that I had spent so much more time with other people than with her and yet, I am telling her that she has to sit in the garden-“Your own Mother!”
We are the product of our life experiences and they do not and will never define who we are and there is always room for change.
There is so much hurt, rejection, loss, frustration, bitterness, jealousy and pain that Mother still holds within her and no amount of my trying, desperately at times to lead her towards thinking differently about her life, is going to change that.
This is her journey and of course I am a huge part of that journey and my love for her is insurmountable.
Will I always feel frustrated when we rub each other up the wrong way… of course I will, because until I heal the part of me that is my Mother, she will always present to me the lessons that I need to learn.
Ultimately, we all want to be loved and my Mother is no different.
Happy birthday to you on this 10th day of June.
Patricia June Maltby Thompson Sinclair
May you find that acceptance within you that I believe you are searching for.
May you forgive yourself for the role that you didn’t play.
May you know, that we your children, love you and always will.
I feel a little detached today and I’m gently reminding myself that its okay tonotbe okay.
Another early morning visit to the hospital for more blood tests to see if the doctor can make headway with what my body is struggling with and of course… I have my own answers (remembering the mind/body connection) yet will still go down this route first to keep my husband and doctor happy.
The majority of hospital staff who passed me in the corridors were withoutgloves or masks to protect themselves (and us) so I find myself still questioning, what an earth is going on?
Whilst sat in the waiting room, I scrolled through some of the blogs that I follow and read some interesting comments on many different subjects.
Something I read caught my eye and I followed the comment to a blog that I have’t seen before and found myself feeling very sad, about what I was reading.
I am very aware that reading my writing, must have been difficult at times for some people too.
It saddens me to my absolute core when I read sentences like;
I will always have to live with this, it will always be this way, I will have to get used to living like this for the rest of my life and I can never have the things in life that I can only dream about.
I question why I was lead to this particular blog and how can I help people change their suffocating beliefs to more empowering ones-beliefs that will ignite within them, a passion to want to live free of the chains, that they have bound themselves with.
I question why a doctor will often prescribe drugs to a patient before taking the time to look further into their personal history- yes you are probably all screaming at me that doctors don’t have the time and of course I get that!
Surely the patient could be referred on to someone who is able to take a deeper look into what is happening underneath those symptoms, what’s really going on?
I am not medically trained and don’t ever claim to be either, but people need to know that there is an insurmountable amount of medical practitioners in the world that have worked tirelessly with researching this subject matter. Dr Lissa Rankin is just one of many doctors who are thinking outside of the box, so to speak.
“Spontaneous” Remission 101: 9 Fundamentals of Whole Health That Conventional Medicine Usually Ignores
Radical cures don’t usually just happen. Most patients and providers who tell awe-inspiring stories of seemingly miraculous cures have been very proactive about confronting illness not with a disease-management approach, but with the intention to restore balance, harmony, and wholeness. Let us come together as a village committed to healing ourselves and transforming how we practice medicine so we can ramp up the rates of “spontaneous” remissions from diseases we once believed were “incurable.” – Dr Lissa Rankin
My belief is that there is always another way and if you have experienced some kind of past trauma and your living with dis-ease in your body then please don’t settle for the diagnosis without at least checking out alternative routes to healing your body and your mind.
I am not suggesting in any way that you should not seek medical advice or stop taking medication at all, so let me make myself clear-ALWAYS SEEK MEDICAL ADVICE WHEN YOU NEED IT; just don’t limit yourself to one school of thought.
Research alternative viewpoints from medical doctors whom specialize in the particular illness or diagnosis that you are living with at present-doctors who are open to thinking differently about illness and the possibility that unprocessed emotional trauma may play a heavy part in preventing a body to heal.
The sky is grey this evening and vastly different from the hot summers day that graced us yesterday.
Wildlife is bountiful, although seemingly hiding a little today.
A rat, rather a handsome fellow (or maybe a lady) braves the garden early in the evening, running at speed from one side to the other, stopping briefly for cover in a small hedge.
I wonder where he’s going?
Last evening, I spotted him on what may have been his first attempt of the day to run the gauntlet and having spooked him, he turned back around super fast and scurried back the same way he came.
A few minutes later and on his second attempt, he made haste across the grass only to be spooked yet again by my husband walking out of the back door.
He promptly turned around and darted for the safety of the hedgerow.
Third time lucky and another few minutes later, he set off again with gust and determination, bypassing the safety place, running directly to his destination.
I smiled inside and sent him a virtual high five, for not giving up.
Has there ever been a time in your life when you’ve attempted to do something many times and even though there may have been difficulties along the way, you pushed through and made it to the other side?
If you have, then acknowledge yourself for doing a great job because you now have an internal pattern for success. Your mind knows how to do it, how to push through adversity, how to achieve the very thing that you desire.
You’ve just got to keep going, keep moving forward and you can apply this strategy to any area of your life, no matter how big or small the situation is!
I’ve fallen by the wayside many times in the past having used the self sabotage pattern to undermine my own success, as success (the kind of level that I believe I can achieve) means giving so much more of myself and that still scares me somewhat…
I have never ever let go of my dreams, just pushed them to the back of somewhere and I’m okay with that because it has enabled me to walk a necessary path.
Let’s face it… I don’t actually know how many attempts the rat made to get to where he wanted to be and what I know for sure is, that he made it to the other side.
Let’s meet each other on the other side of the hedgerow with gust and determination, bypassing that safety ‘comfort zone’ place arriving at our destination.
(and of course, I’m not suggesting that you are anything like a rat )
Day 73 of this way of living in a different space and as we welcome the arrival of the month of June, let’s remind ourselves that this day marks a brand new beginning, full of opportunity, possibility and even deeper connection.
It’s been a long and interesting journey for me both personally and also for my clients who have not only had the courage to honor themselves with their commitment to change but also to embrace the whole online process.
I am truly grateful.
For me personally, it’s been a time to re-charge, reflect, trust and just allow life to unfold naturally without limitations.
What about you?
Have you had any life shifts, wake up calls, learning’s?
So much has changed, on so many levels and I wonder if you have noticed the profound underlying messages that you have been called to respond to within your life, in light of the recent events?
I sat in the garden with my dear friend yesterday (socially distancing) and we found ourselves deep in discussion about us as women, why we are here, how we have prevented ourselves from reaching our potential and how we have both self sabotaged for years.
Our conversations always go that extra mile, a little deeper each time, leaning into the power of now and an all knowing powerful force that surrounds us, offering the opportunity to grow and evolve.
So often we have blatantly ignored the message even though we accept that its there, right for the taking and we’ve run in the opposite direction, afraid of our own success.
Fear will eat you alive if you allow it.
I have always been fascinated by the mind-body connection and how we show up in this world at any given time. I don’t ever see black and white, I see an array of color that maybe you are unable to see right now, when it comes to who you are and what’s possible for you.
I believe in you, what ever your past looks like, how ever you show up right now in life. You are so important and maybe nobody has told you that lately but you are.
You have a purpose just like me and every other living thing on this planet.
We are here to improve the state of the world and to have the courage to move through fear and ask for what we want.
Did you hear that?
What you want… not what other people want for you, or think of you or expect of you.
Fight for yourself you are worth it.
You are alive.
You are beautiful.
Don’t conform… be you.
So start now, right where you are.
Acknowledge your past-yes it happened, it really did and there is no denying that, but understand this, it happened for you, not to you. You may be reading that statement and think what a crock of shit… and yes, it took time for me to really understand that concept and embrace the idea. I now understand it and know so very deeply that the pain I went through as a child happened for me to grow to learn, to love more deeply and for me to be able to show others the way out of that sometimes overwhelming and dark place.
I’ve been there… this isn’t text book stuff this is real life.
I also know that I have written this somewhere before in my blog and this is what came up for me to write this morning. I’m trusting my gut that someone out there who reads this today, needs to hear it so if I am sounding like a broken record, then so be it.
YOU CAN CHANGE AND LIFE CAN BE WHAT YOU WANT IT TO BE – but you have to take action, do something about it.
If you want something, then step aside from all of that painful past and surrender to new ideas and new beliefs about what is always and in all ways… ready and waiting for you
Pay attention to the signs all around because you will only learn, when you pay attention.
Draw that line _____________________________________
Its a new day and I am so grateful that you and I are both here to Grace this world with us being who we are, just as we are, a delight, an expression, a gift to be unravelled one day at a time.
We’ve had a run of beautiful sunny days and today the wind has shown up to blow away our yesterdays.
I am struggling to write something that’s worth reading and seemingly, I’m all in or nothing at all.
It frustrates the hell out of me.
Its been an unusual week with mixed emotions.
My husband has moved into worry land, panicking about our future, where as I am doing my very best to let life unfold and see where it takes us.
Worrying is not for me anymore I choose to trust over worry.
If you are spending too much in the world of worry then maybe it’s time to change your narrative because whatever story you are making up in your mind, about something that hasn’t even happened yet in your future, will deplete your emotional well being store.
The knock on effect can be damaging for your body and reek havoc on your immune system.
64 days of lock down or should I say that we are now loosely locked down!
The roads seem to be busy again and the people are moving around as normal.
Although, it’s anything but normal!
The UK’s death toll has now risen to nearly 37,ooo and on our small Island, the numbers are rising too.
It seems to be okay for the masses to sunbath on the beach though. I’m sure my son would love to lay on a beach rather than work from home in the middle of London, recruiting care workers to take the place of the poor key workers whom have sadly died whilst putting themselves and their family’s at risk?
I just don’t get it.
Am I the one that is being dramatic or over the top?
The problem that I have with the people so openly abusing the Government recommendations, is that when once person goes against the grain, then others follow and that equals lives at risk.
I fully understand that people want to move on and reach for some sort of normality in their lives but at what cost?
After all, we are still in the devastating 300 plus bracket of people dying on a daily basis.
My thoughts and prayers are with the thousands of families that have been devastated by the Corona Virus.
As my elderly Mother said to me yesterday, “Everybody else is going out and getting on with normal life so it must be okay now.” And you see, that statement right there, is the problem.
Others will always follow whether its right or wrong and especially, if they are confused about what the government has requested them to do.
Lets face it… our politicians haven’t exactly been clear with their message.
You can’t wait for the world to be equal to start feeling seen, you have to find the tools within to find your voice – Michelle Obama
I am a real warrior in the fight for equality.
My belief is that we all have a right to be here and by that I mean, however you show up in this world, what ever race, religious belief, disability or sexual orientation, you belong.
We all matter.
I was born into a family full of conflict and almost suffocated by the religious beliefs of my parents, which in their entirety, were incredibly mismatched.
My Father was baptized a Methodist-a good Christian man. He hated the whole of the Japanese race, believing that they should be wiped out from the earth completely. Thankfully, his attempts to instill the same belief’s into us, his children, didn’t work.
It isn’t something that any one of us could even hold within our hearts.
Yet he was a good Christian man, wasn’t he?
My Mother who follows the Catholic religion, taught us to believe that if you aren’t christened and when it’s your time to depart this world, you won’t be allowed into Heaven.
I can not even fathom that statement out?
Like it’s a special club for special people?
Am I not special?
Are you not special?
Are we not made in the likeness of God?
Is God not love?
None of my children are christened.
What does that actually mean?
Well what it mean’s for me is, that we didn’t pay out heaps of money to have a christening party that was laden with special gifts from special people who probably never really had any kind of understanding in the whole concept of being christened.
Does that mean that I am a non believer?
Absolutely not and what I will say is that my beliefs have no conditions attached to them and that’s my choice too.
I was christened on a hospital ward when I was born because my mother thought that I was going to die and as she told me years later, she was terrified that if the priest wasn’t called to perform the ceremony, I wouldn’t get my special place with God.
Please forgive me if I offend you in anyway because it isn’t my intention and I really don’t believe that God would banish any child at all or for any reason.
Can you see how confusing it may be for a child to establish his or her own sense of self?
We all have a right to voice our own opinions, beliefs and question the world around us. There are times, during a session, I gently push boundaries with my client in order to allow them to open up to the possibility of new and other ways of thinking.
Not forcibly, just gently-an offering to look a little deeper into themselves and especially the young people who all too often seem to be afraid to step into their own power through fear of rejection.
We have no right to condition our children and they have a right to feel free to express themselves, be themselves, live life on their terms.
You may think it’s easier to keep quiet, reserved or even accept the things that you no longer want to accept through fear of judgement.
It really isn’t-it dulls your empowerment.
Have courage, become who you want to be, who you already are… and always have been deep within you.
At the end of the day, my hope is that we all want our children to be seen, feel worthy, know that they matter and I want that for you and for me too.
You matter and you are so worthy of free choice, the values that you hold and the right to feel equal to your fellow human beings.
And of course, you are not equal at all… you are all UNIQUE.
It’s day 55 of lock down and I wonder how people are doing?
I mean, really doing?
It seems to be the new way of living now and for me, acceptance was key.
I no longer resist in any way and I’m allowing life to unfold graciously.
I am so very grateful for this present moment-all is okay.
Even though I have no idea what’s next for us as a family and what our future looks like, it feels so good and exciting, because its such a new feeling for me and something that I’ve been teaching others, how to do for years-I just didn’t walk my talk.
I’m not worried at all.
I feel alive and so accepting of myself.
So today I encourage you all where ever you may be right now in this bizarre and beautiful world;
to stop and remind yourself that you have a purpose
a right to belong
a story to tell
a love to be shared
and most of all I want you to know that it’s okay to love and accept yourself
just as you are
what ever happened in your past
all the mistakes that you think, you’ve made
the wrong paths that you think, you may have taken
anything that you berate and punish yourself for…
NONE OF IT MATTERS NOW
don’t drag all of that stuff forward in life with you, it makes no sense at all
let it go
honor yourself with love and nourishment, acceptance and forgiveness.
YOU are perfect just the way you are and don’t be afraid to allow yourself to dream because dreaming is a wonderful thing and can bring fourth all that youdesire if;
YOU JUST GET OUT OF YOUR OWN WAY
Much love to you all and thank you so much for reading The boy in the chip shop because everyone of you, are a part of my healing journey.
I’ve been lying in bed, mulling over a telephone call that I had with my elderly Mother yesterday when checking in with her to make sure all is okay.
“I’ve been reading your writing on the huddle”– she always refers to the internet, as the name of the tablet that she uses and the writing she is referring to are the memes or quotes that I post on Facebook.
“I’m proud of you girl.”
“Thanks Mum that means a lot to me.”
She caught sight of the link that I posted a few weeks back, to this blog and my heart sank when she told me that she had managed to get on to my writing where there was a picture of someones feet… “I don’t know how I found it but it was ever so good and I didn’t know you could write like that!”
I was relieved to know that she didn’t get any further than the introduction and know that she would be pretty devastated if she read anymore.
My big brother idolized his mum, our mum and when he was little he used to try and protect her from my father and his aggressive bouts, by standing in front of her and standing up to him.
He took the brunt of the beatings for her.
There were times when my father would take my mothers most precious possessions and swap them for prescription drugs from the man that lived opposite our house. My brother would earn money from either bottle digging or picking winkles from the beach and buy her jewellery back.
I’ve probably written this somewhere before in my previous posts.
There is still a part of me that struggles to forgive her for not putting my brother first and I also know that he needs to be acknowledged for what happened to him as a child.
It’s the younger child part of him that needs this to be acknowledged.
Nobody has said sorry.
I know that we make choices to the best of our ability at any given time and the choices that my mother would have made back then, were driven by intense fear.
Forgiveness is so very powerful and by choosing pain, anger or even hate over forgiving, we are hurting ourselves so much more than the other person/people involved in our personal story.
Have I forgiven my mother for not protecting my brother and putting him first?
I would be lying if I said that I totally had and for the most part, of course, I have. Maybe I have learn’t so much over the years about the why’s and the how’s and the many reasons why we do the things that we do.
It is never black and white and there is always so much more.
There is still a part of me that seems unable to forgive my parents for the hurt that they both caused my brother and I also know that forgiveness needs to happen in order to really live freely without that past dragging me or him down.
They carried so much pain of their own.
In time I know we will and in part, that’s why I started writing.
If my mother read my blog I think that she would be shocked and very hurt. I also think that acknowledging the part that she played in all of this, would devastate her.
What I do resent is a statement she had said so many times over the years and it’s this-
“If anyone ever touched a hair of one of my kids… I’d kill them!”
(and that goes for grandchildren too)
Some where within her there is a dark, dark place that carries shame, guilt, loss and so much pain and I really don’t want that for her or for my brother or I.
Forgiveness can be tough and I so want it to be easier. I love my mum with all my heart and she has been a wonderful mum in so many ways. I feel that there’s a part of her emotionally that cut off and became cold a very long time ago and that may of happened way before she married my father.
Maybe it happened when her own mother rejected her and that’s terribly sad.
I guess the question is, would my mother still be very proud of me if she read my blog?
It took some time for me to pick up Leora’s Letters and read it because I knew that the story would evoke some painful emotions within me which are attached to the loss of my Father and what he went through as a child in the same war.
Although he didn’t die, my family lost my Father when he was 7 years old and I don’t really think that he ever stood a chance of returning emotionally, from the atrocities that he experienced in the prison camp.
I can only ever imagine what kind of woman and Mother Leora was, from Joy’s description of her Grandmother and in particular the letter’s that she so lovingly wrote to her family and her five son’s.
My tears flowed generously as I read each letter and what a gift to the world this book is, to be able to have such a personal, historical insight of WWII that will always be available for people to read and for students to study in schools.
Thank you Leora, what a wonderful Mother you were and I am so sorry that you had to lose your beautiful boy’s, in order for others to live.
Thank you Joy for your wonderful book and the gift that you have given to me of love, connection and friendship.
Known as the father of motivation, Wayne Dyer was a man who impacted my life greatly and I spent many years yearning to attend one of his seminars.
The Christmas before he passed away, my dear friend Katie surprised me with a ticket to see him in London, the following September.
He died two weeks before his event.
Are there things in your life that you’ve spent years wanting to do and haven’t done them yet, because there is always some sort of reason why you can’t?
Are there people in your life that you no longer see, yet wish you were still connected?
Do you have dreams that you have put on hold because of one reason or another?
I can answer yes to all of the above.
The seminar went a head, only now it was a dedication to his life rather than hearing this wonderful man speak and as I sat in the audience, I can remember asking myself what the lesson was in this situation, that I needed to learn?
I felt desperately sad that I had not made it in time, to see Wayne Dyer and that I’d wasted so many years of my life making excuses–
When I have enough money, when the kids are older, when I’m slimmer, when I’m successful, when this and when that and so on…
How many excuses have you made over the years when it comes to your hopes, desires, your future dreams?
I recognize the beautiful part of my being, that was a serial excuse maker and she learn’t from the very best.
Don’t be like me and waste time with vacant excuses because this present time is all that matters, right HERE AND NOW.
Write that list, make plans for your future-dream… and dream BIG.
The teachings of Wayne Dyer will always be available to whom ever shall seek them and in his own words;
If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.
Here is the Excuses Begone audio book which is not the best quality but still a brilliant listen.
It’s a new month and I wonder what May will bring?
Each day seems to roll into the next, not that I am complaining at all.
It’s kind of nice-learning to let go of self imposed restrictions and walk this road in new and different ways. There are still lots of twists and turns to self navigate which I now welcome, rather than attempt to walk around.
The world has changed
and its the difference, that makes the difference.
Part of me, wants this new way of living to carry on because going back to the way it was, for me, is not an option.
There were times when I felt suffocated under the weight of the pain that I was carrying and now feel different-like being very little and beginning to crawl, and taking my first steps.
The steps I quite possibly, missed out on taking a very, very long time ago.
Only, which direction shall I go in?
What if I lose my way again?
What if I get lost?
And then I remember.
So today I will choose the path of least resistance and see where it takes me.
Today I shall remain present and acknowledge my dear old familiar friend called fear, who really, has only ever had my most highest and best interests at heart, which is to keep me safe.
When all is quiet in the morning, I love to hear the gentleness of the falling rain.
When I was a child my Dad wouldn’t allow me to play outside in the rain and I remember, often sitting at my bedroom window watching the other kids on the street, playing freely.
I never crossed him intentionally-the consequences were too high.
(well on the odd occasion when I felt exceedingly brave)
It was another restless night, last night and when that happens, my mind begins to wander, travelling to the most distant memories of my past experiences.
The poem that I wrote for my last daily challenge task which was called Fear, was about an experience I had when I was about 12.
There used to be a cafe in town, a popular hang out for teenagers after school and on Saturday afternoons. Six or seven of us girls, would squeeze ourselves around a table and share plates of chips, covered in heaps of tomato sauce.
Dad wouldn’t allow me to go into town at aged 12 and his over bearing fear of me being taken away, clouded his thinking and increased his control. The pressure from friends about never being allowed to do stuff, wore me down in the end and I took the risk and joined them on the odd occasion.
Joining in, created an intense, internal worry that Dad would somehow, find out and so my teenage adventure was always marred with anxiety and quite stressful.
This particular Saturday, a man came into the cafe and sat at the table next to us. He seemed nice and instigated a conversation, offering us chips and cups of hot chocolate at his expense. He wore a light beige mackintosh coat and had short brown hair. I can remember him smiling and appearing very friendly.
What I didn’t realize in my immaturity, was that he was in the early stages of grooming.
He made us laugh and looking back now, his charisma and flirtatious character was appealing to a group of overly hormonal, teenage girls.
When we left the cafe to walk home, he asked what direction we were walking in and low and behold, he just happened to be going the same way and tagged on to our group.
I can’t remember what we talked about but I do remember that I seemed much more fascinated by him than anyone else did!
I knew better, I’d had it drummed into me from an early age about not talking to strangers. In fact, my Dad was obsessed with the idea of me being taken, which lead to his strict and often overwhelming control of me.
One by one, my friends said their goodbyes and went home until I was the last girl, alone with the stranger.
None of them appeared to be worried about me being on my own with him and just left me.
It was at that point, I realised something was wrong and decided to walk back, the way we came to be sure of more people being around.
Almighty fear set in and I knew that I had to get away. I also knew, that I had to keep walking and talking until I arrived at a safe place in order to make my exit.
One specific thing I do recall him telling me whilst walking back, was that he had to go to the police station everyday at 6 pm to check in and if he didn’t go, he would be in a lot of trouble.
I didn’t understand why?
Alarms bell went off and I felt like I couldn’t breathe-the intensity was overwhelming. I knew that I could’t run yet as he might grab me, so I just kept walking, whilst figuring out what to do.
There was a red telephone box at the end of the main road that leads into town and I decided that the box, would be my queue, to part company.
I can still feel the feeling of fear inside my gut as I write this now and also, have had another aha moment with regards to my running pattern.
In the past, when I have felt so suffocated with my life situation, I’ve wanted to run as far away as humanly possible, to escape the fear of what was happening and this situation, stacked up with all of my other ‘running away’ experiences, has allowed the fear to grow and my running pattern to increase too.
No wonder I’ve always felt like running away…
I felt suffocated in that situation back then, my lungs unable to expand fully restricted with fear and I said politely;
“It was nice meeting you, I have to go home now”-
his tone of voice was stern and he slightly protested my leaving saying that we could talk some more, as that he really liked me.
I started to walk in the direction of home and he was quickly behind me so I picked up my pace and started to run which is when he shouted out;
“Come back you bitch” and began the chase after me.
I literally ran for my life, never stopping until I made it home and praying a gazillion times on route, eventually losing him.
Wet with perspiration and lungs about to burst, I locked the front door behind me and told Mum what had happened (not the whole story of course) just that I had left my friends and had been followed home.
I don’t really recall a reaction and felt like what I had told her, had fallen on deaf ears. I took myself off to my bedroom and waited at the window, hiding behind my net curtain on active surveillance for, I don’t know how long.
Just in case he followed me home.
As a part of my NLP practitioner training some 21 years ago, we learn’t how to use hypnosis as a tool to enable our clients to experience a deeper therapeutic process and during my Master practitioner, my practice strengthened.
It was phenomenal.
I was fascinated about this incredible tool and wanted to learn more in depth skills so on my return from the USA, I attended further training in London.
My colleagues and I lodged in a guest house local to the training centre and the whole experience at the house, was bizarre from start to finish.
On arrival, the owner of the house greeted us in such a welcoming and uplifting manner, almost completely over the top, like we were her long lost family.
She wore a navy blue jumper which appeared to have food stains down the front and a long denim skirt. As it was late in the evening, she showed us to our rooms and retired to her private dwellings.
My colleagues, who were also a couple, stayed in the downstairs double room occupancy which had a conservatory attached to it. I had a small room on the first floor, upstairs.
There were four male constructions workers staying in the two rooms adjacent to my room and we shared a bathroom, situated on the landing outside.
I had no lock on my door and the fear once again, felt almost unbearable so I propped a chair up against the door, jamming the handle so that nobody could enter my room.
I was now 30.
My bed was unclean, covered in hair and it was obvious that it had been slept in. I was too afraid to leave my room to complain and ask for clean bedding, so spread my towel out over the pillows and the top part of the sheet and attempted to go to sleep.
I hardly slept at all.
The next morning I went downstairs for breakfast and was greeted by my colleagues in the dining room. The owner appeared to take our order for breakfast and was dressed in the exact same clothes with what looked like an extra egg stain on her jumper.
During breakfast I mentioned to the others about the state of my bed and in a round about way they suggested that I was going over the top and it was only for a few days so to let it go and not make a fuss.
I didn’t mention the chair.
Everyday was the same. The lady would open the door for us when we arrived back after our day’s training, wearing the exact same dirty clothes and then every morning when we came down for breakfast.
It was the same for the entirety of our stay.
She appeared to be in some sort of stranded animation.
On the very last morning of the training, whilst waiting for the others to get ready to leave, I sat in the conservatory with my ear phones in, listening to music. When I closed my eyes and almost immediately, I had the most vividvisual experience of being chased by a man. My body felt heavy, stuck to the chair that I was sitting in and the film played out in my mind.
I was terrified, running through the woods near my childhood home and was being chased by a man.
He was catching up with me very quickly and I just couldn’t out run him.
The man grabbed my left shoulder and I stopped.
For what seemed like forever I couldn’t turn around and look at him because I was so friegthened.
And then I turned…
Staring back at me was my Dad, having grown a beard, looking fresh and healthy with bright blue eyes. He was wearing a burgundy scarf and smart grey heavy overcoat.
He threw is arms around me and held me.
In that moment I stopped running, just for a while, for at least the time I had with him, in my minds eye, for him to love me and hold me, to let me know that he was with me and I needn’t be afraid anymore.
Sometimes in life we let fear lead us down a path of terrible self sacrifice andemotional punishment that really messes with our whole being. We choose situations in life, unconsciously, to get in touch with that same pain, to remind us in some sort of way, that we aren’t good enough, or not strong enough, not worthy enough and so on…
But you know what?-it really doesn’t have to be that way, you can do things differently and choose a different path. My guess is for me, that there have been a million and one times over the years where my Dad has reached out to me or been very near and my grief has closed me down.
I believe that life goes on, maybe in a different form but I can not and will not accept that we end, when our body dies.
For me that’s an impossible concept.
For me our Soul never dies we just change form.
I know that Dad would have learn’t lessons from his experience here in this life time and I also believe that he would be so very sorry for his actions. My hope is that us, his siblings will learn our necessary lessons too.
After all… all of the pain on all levels, has to mean something surely?
i thought the man was friendly
gentle smile with big bright eyes
he nodded in conversation
simple offerings to keep us keen
we found him very interesting
so many stories he had to tell
he talked for what seemed hours
one by one they said goodbye
and then it came to my turn
friends gone just him and me
don't leave me now i like you
we can always talk some more
i thanked him so politely
with urgency picked up my pace
he was unrelenting
and his tone of voice had changed
the fear took hold with filthy hands
i realized what i had done
he shouted loudly - come back bitch
now his pace changed he began to run
my lungs restricted consumed afraid
i can not stop i must not stop
he was old and i was young
and youth thank God saved my life
i made it home unscathed and safe
they did not believe my truth
the stranger hunted for his prey
and the silly girl got away (she was 12)
They say with time things change
such perfect presence
he was not
his expression of life was impenetrable
and yet was
the loveliest Soul
a mind so perilous, tormented by evil
condemned with silent movies
a prisoner before
a prisoner once more
trapped within his own distortion
then meaning became marred
through altered reality
impossible to hide
I can not carry that heaviness
anymore or harness
for it spills from my heart
making me weak
He laid down in quiet demeanor
closed his eyes
knowing it was his last time
He prayed to his God
At what point in your life did you start putting limitations on yourself?
Can you remember?
My first memory of limiting myself was around the age of four, believing that I couldn’t dance as well as another child and I remember having a bad feeling in my tummy.
Four years old.
How did I even know or understand how to feel that kind of emotion?
In the first years of our lives, our mind is like a sponge and it soaks up tall of the beliefs and values of our main caregivers who begin to sculpt us in one way or another.
If you are telling yourself stories that limit you in any kind of way then you might be interested to know that those stories, might not even belong to you!
Think about that for a minute!
What stories have you told yourself over and over again throughout your life?
Do they limit you or expand you?
The stories that I’ve told myself continuously, have held me back from living life fully and have caused a great deal of sadness for a long time;
I am ashamed of myself, I’m not good enough, I hate myself, I should know better, why didn’t I do better, I could have been, I should have been. I don’t deserve…
And I am reminded of the stories that both of my parents quite possibly told themselves –
I am ashamed of myself, I am not worthy enough, I hate myself, I don’t deserve to be loved, I don’t deserve to live…
I am so ashamed of myself, I am not lovable, I am not good enough, I deserve this, I can’t leave, I can’t change it, I have to accept it…
Do you see any underlying familiar patterns?
See how it works?
My expectations for my own life were embellished with my parents self sabotaging stories and beliefs.
They knew no better.
They did their best.
It doesn’t have to be that way and when you wake up to the idea that you have the choice to change your story, no matter where you are currently in your life, then you will know and understand fully that your story will either hold you back or propel you forward.
Embrace who you are and from this moment onward’s, change your story if it doesn’t serve you any longer.
How empowering for you to know that maybe you’ve been living your life from somebody else’s perspective and now you can CHANGE it to what ever you desire.
Neither here or there-can’t quite put my finger on it!
We’ve been making the effort to walk daily and today was such a beautiful morning, it felt good to be out of the house.
I find it incredible to think that we have lived on this Island pretty much our entire life and have never walked these routes before.
New pathways can lead you to new places.
We forget to live, really live in the moment and the beauty of this horrendous situation that surrounds us, is that we are beginning to remember what’s really important and take notice of the simple things in life.
The path that we walked along used to be the old railway line and in every direction you are surrounded by the beauty of nature and it feels easy to breathe again.
As we walked, we came a cross a drawing on the dirt path in front of us which amused us both and I’m guessing that the artist, is of the much younger generation (apologies if anyone is offended) or quite possibly taking part in a daily anatomy lesson?
It seems unfair to think that the male organ is often the brunt of wild graffiti sessions, or penned on the back of many a public toilet door and I wonder why the female organs aren’t given such an honorable display?
I don’t normally write poems that rhyme so I’m not too pleased with this one, but a challenge is a challenge so here goes…
who would I be?
why, me of course
I'd be me
I am You
and You are me
together, are we
I can not live
nor can I breathe
nothing to give
My heart is full
and yours is too
a love so strong
a bond so true
I am not whole
and with you
one beautiful Soul
“Your real job is to figure out as soon as possible what that is, who you are mean’t to be and begin to honor your calling in the best possible way.” – Oprah Winfrey
Monday’s always signify to me that I can start again.
A new week, a new beginning.
So how do we know and understand what our purpose in this life is and are you really even interested in finding out?
I have asked this question to myself for many, many years and ended up sending myself around on this massive wheel of believing, I didn’t know…
“Why can’t someone just tell me?.”
“Why isn’t is obvious?”
“Why don’t I know what it is?”
Then come the should’s!
“I should know!”
“I should do better at knowing!”
“I should be better!”
I am sure you can all figure out the rest.
Often times, the very thing that you want or need to know most about yourself, is staring you in the face, you just can’t seem to see it!
Or can you?
Does fear stop you from knowing, what you already know?
Maybe, if you just sat back and stopped trying so hard, then the very question that you want to be answered, will be answered-all the wisdom, insights and inspirational message’s will come flooding through and then, you can choose to align with your purpose (or not).
My son is 25 and lives in London which currently, is the epicenter for the virus spread in the UK.
My daughter is 21 and lives about ten minutes away which feels like a million miles right now.
I would love for us to be sitting around the dining table together, enjoying our Sunday roast, hearing them laugh and joke with there little sister.
As a teenager my Mother often said;
“Don’t try and grow up too fast because when you are an adult, you’ll wish you were a kid again.”
Do I miss being a kid? Yes, at times I do and if I could go back and rewrite our history, I would make it all so very different for my brothers and I.
And… I know I wouldn’t be who I am today without my childhood being as it was, but still, sometimes it just sucks!!!
What I miss most are the times when my big kids were little and we were altogether in one place.
My youngest is 12 and desperately misses her siblings. I found this note hidden in one of my note books from when she used to role play being a secretary.
Sometimes growing up can be hard especially for the child that feels left behind and of course as we all know, its a natural process.
I was that child too.
I am so very proud of these three beautiful humans, and feel blessed to call them my children. Yes, there are times when I wish I could go back to number 10, as number 10 was where we were all rooted together, it was our family home. I realise now, I wasn’t as grateful as I could have been for that house-our home.
I am gently reminded that it was just a house… the love of my family, the very soul of those memories will remain in my heart forever and that’s what counts most.
I know that there is still a part of me that holds back from saying what I really want to say, on that particular platform and I think that it’s a much younger part, working super hard to believe in herself.
At the beginning of this new way of living and in a moment of fearlessness, I posted the link to this blog and then sat back and sunk for a while after pressing the button.
Well of course I did!!!!
I originally made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t share my personal story with people that I knew, until I had written at least one hundred posts, not knowing how long it would take me to write a mere forty posts!
I guess things change.
My passion for people and helping them to live their best version of themselves is insurmountable. I really do believe that you can change your life around, no matter what you are faced with and at any given time.
Make the decision, take the necessary action and add in a whole lot of consistency. Most importantly, the key factor being, that if you WANT TO CHANGE enough, then you will follow through.
Since posting the link, I have felt a little naked-anyone reading it will see me in a different light and I wonder what judgement’s (if any) have been made?
I am reminded of a well known quote by Dr Wayne Dyer who said; “Be independent of the good opinions of others”
It’s time to rise up for me and for any other person that has allowed fear to screw them over because, to have courage when faced with adversity of any kind, simply means you showed up.
If telling my truth allows others to feel brave enough to show up too, then I can rest easy at night knowing that I have done my best to help another.
Good people of the world, I hope that you are having the best day that you can have whilst living through a lock down day. If not, change your state RIGHT NOW and dance the crazy dance.
I’ve been to bed, completed my Wim Hoff breathing exercise, got out of bed, meditated, peed three times, face booked, commented on blogs, listened to the cat snore for the past hour and now the hamster is running it’s wheel…
It’s 2.34 am and I’m going to attempt my next writing challenge which has been set as the title of this post.
alone he roamed no place no home an eternal wanderer
clothes were rags his life in bags carrying a heavy heart
stench was bad the jeers so sad yet perfectly polite
people did stare so ugly no care misunderstood by many
a broken story such loss no glory of an English poet
spirit so free in peace I see the most beautiful man
I thought that I would share something different today.
My friend Katie, a local artist, came up with the idea of a daily challenge for us both. She chooses something for me and I do the same for her which may be a word, picture or anything to be get creative with.
Something fun to focus on.
So yesterday I gave Kate the word Logophile (you will have to look it up) and this is her creation.
I love the way that she has taken the words from two beautiful and powerful poems. One by Maya Angelou, the other, Robert Frost and then created a tree.
Katie gave me the poem A Poison Apple by William Blake, to work with and I played around with the concept to create my own version.
A Poison Apple
I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears, Night & morning with my tears: And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night. Till it bore an apple bright. And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole, When the night had veiled the pole; In the morning glad I see; My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
Death to Love
He knew such love some time ago
a woven pattern of belonging
in all essence the enviable bond
but broken with dishonest approach
He could not see through mighty rage
a mind sickened with discoloured thinking
Love shed its skin and greeted his new ally
with such welcomed revenge
The devious plan and rage grew, rising up
to slaughter with swallowing evil
Such darkened dreams a restless night
the new day dawns, shadowed with grief
As rage retreats and sorrow prevails
For a life once loved, now lost
Its great for your mental health and well being, to enjoy a challenge whilst on this lock down journey and here is something for you too, if you are at all interested?
A brilliant watch, especially in this current climate.
On a sadder note, today I have struggled with a sore head due to having a few glasses of wine last night as we toasted the life of an old friend Russ. We grew up on the same housing estate as kids and he sadly passed away yesterday morning due to contracting the Coronavirus.
Russ was a great and funny man and will be missed by many.
We must not become complacent with life and remain strong in our belief that this is a temporary situation.
‘Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet‘ – Thich Nhat Hanh
Such a beautiful quote.
I am so grateful to be able to go out and walk, which we did early this morning and at last it seems that the land has become quieter.
People are finally listening and staying at home.
No buses, cars or bicycles passed by-an eerie silence.
During a 45 minute walk around the block, we saw maybe five people and all but one of them, smiled with a simple recognition of our mutually shared and present reality.
Bless them all.
For the past few days, I have coughed on and off and yesterday my throat was sore and I had a mild headache. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little anxious about the obvious and dealing with a husband that worries as a past time, added a little more unnecessary pressure to manage my feelings.
We must remember that we all do the best we can, with the skills that we have.
I retreated, listened to my body, covered up with a blanket and Netflix won the day.
It’s really okay, to not be okay and there are times when you just need to let go.
If you are trying super hard to be emotionally supportive to everyone in your family then maybe its time to STOP, BREATHE and just be…
You can not give to others what you don’t have yourself.
The garden is full of welcomed guests and morning joy.
Birds are flitting here and there and primroses are on parade in their clusters, proudly showing off their beauty.
The sun in all its glory, dances with nature and warms this coming day with its offering of hope and rebirth.
Hope-a feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen.
Rebirth-a period of new life, growth, or activity, a revival.
With a new beginning somewhere in the Universe there has to be an ending.
Its the Yin and Yang of life, the ebb and flow, the Karmic law.
Sadly, I heard on the radio yesterday of an 11 year old boy losing his life to the unseen and silent killer and an overwhelming ton of emotion hit me me like a steam train.
There is a place deep within me where I feel connected to this child and want to reach out to him, hold him and love him just a little bit more… to let him know that he is and always will be loved by millions of others around the world and that his life had meaning.
All lives have meaning.
We are all in this together.
Collectively, we feel the pain his family feels.
I will never know
or see your
can imagine you now
bounding with life-
by your side
the part of you
that is me
that You lived.
May you all have a wonderful day and know how important each and every one ofyou are . I am thankful for us being on this journey together.
On waking, just for a second or two, I forgot what kind of world I was waking up to…
I live on a tiny Island that sits right at the bottom of the Uk with a last recorded population in 2018 of 141,538.
From an early age I have wanted to leave this place and move as far away as I could and now, being fully aware of my running away strategy, it’s the safest place I could possibly be.
For the first time in my life, I’ve stopped running and it’s quite remarkable. I’ve let go of all expectations and am immersed in trusting this whole magnificent process.
After all… there’s nowhere to run.
The challenge of lock down can offer you so many beautiful things if you just stop pushing yourselves to do more, be more, give more and of course, have more.
I know that I am enough.
I know that you are enough.
Everything that you have experienced within your life up until this very moment, had to happen for you. Yes, even the shittiest, most painful, destructive experiences etc… it was all mean’t to happen in order for you to grow, evolve and learn.
Life has and always will be, happening for you, not to you.
During my early morning walk, I felt such an overwhelming privilege and joy to be alive. My years of using food to numb out the unbearable pain that I was carrying, has taken its toll on my physical body and each step brings a certain amount of discomfort. I am now strong in the knowledge of knowing that I am choosing health over punishment.
I am, my own work in progress and it feels good.
When you name it… you can move through it.
You see, its much easier to stay in pain and discomfort than it is to do the necessary work and change-comfortably uncomfortable.
I’ve been in that place for many years and now I choose to make one small daily change towards healing.
I laid in the bath last night and finished off a book that I started reading about six months ago. I had about twenty pages to read in order to complete it and that which I needed to learn most, was within those last few pages.
The lessons come to you, when you least expect it.
Are you ready to commit to changing something that no longer serves you?
I can’t help but believe that this current world pandemic had to happen in order for the world collectively, to learn so many lessons.
Saying that, does not in any way dismiss the pain that hundreds and thousands offamilies are going through right now. That is never my intention.
My heart goes out to all of the victims of this terrible virus.
If I take my own personal life situation as it was two and a half weeks ago, before we went into lock down, it pretty much was a mess.
From the outside, I may have portrayed that everything was okay, planning my new life in France, seemingly getting excited at the prospect of what was to come, yet on the inside, it was all so very different. The truth of the matter is, I’ve been playing out my age old pattern of running and this time, to my brother in France.
He will always offer me a safe place.
I was completely overwhelmed.
I had pushed myself mentally to the brink of very nearly no return.
Physically, my body was in pain.
Financially, I was being squeezed in every direction.
My poor husband, bless him, was so unhappy having to go away every week to work in a physically demanding construction job, just to make ends meet.
At 54, its a young mans job.
I felt like my world was falling apart around me and I was holding on for dear life.
Today… none of that matters in fact, we are at an incredible turning point in our lives and are so very grateful for our ‘mess’ to be able to wake up to what’s important.
I couldn’t see it clearly before lock down, even though I knew it, on some deep level of my being and now, we both feel incredibly peaceful and it’s quite bizarre.
Both of us have spent years punishing ourselves for the financial situation we created and dragging our kids through it too. We bought and sold a few houses when our children were young, trying to climb the ladder of ‘you always want more’ until one day it all went bang-the recession hit and we were offered a financial way out-we took it.
It was the wrong way (or was it?). If only we’d gone in another direction, life could have been so very different!
Hindsight is a beautiful thing.
There is always choice.
There will always been lessons.
We have spent years trudging through our own self developed shit storm and lived and breathed failure.
And… I had the skills to change our situation right?
We all have the resources inside of ourselves to make the necessary changes that we desire. We really do and yet somehow we chose a difficult path for lessons that still needed to be learn’t.
I can remember times when I would empty my purse out on the table and with the meager amount of coins in front of me, I would have to make a decision whether to buy bread or milk because I didn’t have enough for both.
And yet I would see clients and charge them a small fee or nothing at all if they really couldn’t afford to pay me because they needed my help and that was the right thing to do?
I rescue people.
My close friends knew we were struggling and I’m sure became fed up with the same old excuses that I would give;
”Sorry we won’t be able make it tonight, I can’t really justify spending money when we are trying to be careful.”
”I don’t feel too great so I’m going to give it a miss tonight, maybe next time..”
”You won’t even miss me being there, have fun”
”I don’t do going out anymore, its really not my thing!”
”I can’t afford it.”
and eventually, they stopped asking us out!!
I have lived with feeling ashamed for as far back as I can remember in one way or another and I wonder now, whose shame I learn’t to carry from a very early age?
You are all capable of change.
Where ever you are in your life right now this Covid-19 experience has actually opened a space in your time, to take time to re-evaluate;
What’s really important for you?
What does life look like for you right now?
Are you living the kind of life that you want to be living?
Are you happy?
Do you feel fulfilled?
Are you healthy?
What do you desire most?
What changes can you make right now that will change the direction of your life?
I will repeat this statement again;
YOU ARE A GIFT TO THIS WORLD so stop looking on the outside for self validation.
Everything you need is already within you.
I’ve spent years waiting for that Oprah Winfrey ‘aha moment’ which is a moment of sudden inspiration, insight, recognition or comprehension. It’s when things happen to make you look at life in a completely different way.
I think I got my ‘aha‘!
I believe that Covid-19 is a world ‘aha moment’ from which we all need to make significant changes to heal our planet and ourselves.
I am truly grateful for my own life story for it happened for me to allow personal growth.
Right now today, we are worse off financially that we have ever been because we have been madeSTOP and stay home and yet we both feel so very blessed to be alive, feel peaceful and are trusting that some how… its all going to be okay.
Another great day to be alive albeit a challenging one to say the very least.
A message came through in the early hours of the morning only we didn’t hear phone ting.
My husband’s step father had a stroke at around midnight last night and was taken to hospital-the very place we all need to stay away from right now.
Totally unexpected and such a shock.
Thankfully, as far we know, 80% of his movement has returned which is brilliant and now I am more concerned about the week’s stay in hospital that is ahead of him.
He is 83.
We are unable to visit him.
We are unable to comfort my Mother in-law in person.
As a family, we must pull together, adjust and do things differently.
I am reminded of a well know Dr Wayne Dyer quote;
”If you change the way you look at things the things you look at change”
My Mother in-law acted with haste.
He was given the medication that he needed quickly.
He is alive.
For that… I am truly grateful.
Whatever life throws at you, there is always a choice in how you respond.
Wherever you are in your life right now, today, this very moment… know that you have real choice in how you respond to your current situation and to the world at large. If its all getting too much then change your channel, shift it up a notch, remember who you are and whatrole you play in this present moment.
Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything
Maybe its about unbecoming everything that isn’t you
We are all living in extremely challenging times right now and change is occurring daily.
I wrote a long post last week which needed editing a little and has been waiting patiently in my draft section to be brought to life-only what I wrote, seems terribly insignificant now.
What do we write about in such uncertain times?
I know that their are millions of people feeling overwhelming panic and fear right now and I believe that we can also find ways to uplift and inspire others to learn new ways of getting through this experience that we are being presented with?
For me personally, I can honestly say that I feel like I have beenwoken up from along and arduous sleep.
My beliefs and values are going to be different from yours and that’s great because the world would be an incredibly uninteresting place to be living in if we all thought exactly the same way.
I love that we have a space like this to be free with our expression of life.
Covid-19 is waking us up as a human race.
Look what’s happening around you…
If you look at the spaces in-between suffering and pain you will notice so many beautiful things;
The list goes on…
Our planet was in a terrible, unhealthy place three weeks ago and dying at an increasing rate. Scientists have recorded insurmountable healing growth because of LOCK-DOWN.
All the arguing over Brexit is old news and seemingly insignificant.
There is no division between race.
We are all equal.- especially in our time of collective need.
Money has no value, not in the grand scheme of things.
And so on…
I send love out to the world for all of the loss that families are experiencing.
I send strength, support and eternal gratitude out to our medical staff who are at the forefront of this turmoil.
I want you to know that this is your time to be free with who you are and welcome the extraordinary opportunity that is being presented to you now.
Wake up and live…
If your life is not working the way you want it to work then utilise this time to change it.
Learn something new online, there are so many free courses.
An elderly couple that live just a few houses away, have opened up part of their home as a bird sanctuary.
The daily rhapsody of birdsong is loud and varied.
The seagulls sing the loudest and they fly many to their colony, arriving early morning for feeding time.
Wood Pigeons, Black birds, Robins, Blue Tits, Starlings, Magpies and on the odd occasion a vibrant Woodpecker have all stopped by on their way to somewhere else.
I wonder where?
To the left of the garden near the window, leans an old broken fence. Early one morning, last summer, I opened the blinds and caught sight of the most stunning and regal looking creature, resting momentarily on the leaning stand.
I believe it was a Sparrow Hawk and what an honour to be in his presence.
A moment of Grace.
Our eyes met for a second and then he was gone, his wings so powerful lifting him, high into the morning sky.
The grass is rich in colour having enjoyed the endless rainfall and the bush in the corner has bloomed with pink flowers.
I close my eyes and feel the strength of this incredibly powerful piece of music which exudes emotion.
It is an essential human need to feel and be safe. Each and every person alive has the right to live without fear and yet so many of our fellow men, women and children do not experience this.
The internet has recently been overwhelmed with the ‘Be Kind’ saying and isn’t it really that simple? To be kind to one another to whomever we meet along the way. A simple act of kindness can change a person’s life in an insurmountable way, so why is it so very difficult for some?
I don’t always get it right in fact there have been times in my life where I have been unkind, maybe not intentionally but still I have acted out of fear and frustration which has caused another to feel sad or some kind of pain.
For that behaviour, I am truly sorry.
I do believe that behaviour is learnt and whatever we are subjected to when we are young children can have a profound effect on our ability to make healthy choices,when we are adults. That being said, laying blame on our past won’t get us very far. It just keeps us in that state of difficulty and quite possibly distress.
My life is where it is today because of the choices that I have made over the years. I can not and will not blame my present dysfunction on the trauma that I experienced as a child. Yes the experience shaped me in so many incredible ways and then I had a choice to take charge of my being, my strengths and my weaknesses-to harness the suffering and difficulty and run full speed ahead with it to create a safe, healthy and joyful life. The drain on my mental health has at times, nearly sent me over the edge and I am not afraid to sat that anymore…
To feel fragile and alone is not joyful for anyone.
When I listen to beautiful emotive music I am able to lose myself and step into a world of creative imagination. Although I still feel sad I am also free withoutrestraint and just for a moment my mind goes some place else. I can feel my body change and express itself in such a gentle way.
In a gentle way, non aggressive, not frustrated, no anger just letting go and all in a few minutes, I can feel the space in between the music and me.
I long to feel gentle and yes I know how strange that may sound but for my entire adult life I have been a fighter, a survivor, the aggressor, the controller everything but gentle. I feel lost behind this huge armour that I wear, ready to do battle to protect myself and the people I care about.
I know that I would allow myself the risk of death in order to save another’s life.
It is who I have become.
I am completely burn’t out and long for the gentleness and warmth my body has to offer me.
The love of self that awaits me, when I choose to be it, will heal the self and offer me a healthy, energetic heart that is full of joy.
Not sure where I am going with this today and just enjoying the expression.
So here I am, the other side of that painful story.
It has taken almost a year to write so very little and yet such a massive part of my personal history and now I need a break from the deep and painfully bleak writing.
IT’S NOT WHO I AM.
MY STORY DOES NOT DEFINE ME.
I AM SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT.
And, there is so much more to the story.
So who am I?
I have a name, but that’s not who I am.
I have a beating heart, but that’s not who I am either.
I wear many hats-wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, friend and so on…
I have often questioned myself about why I am here?
What is my purpose?
What is life all about?
I feel so deeply and am forever questioning the world around me. I don’t see life as black and white and I believe that we are all connected on some level.
In 1986 having just turned 18, I qualified as a Nursery Nurse (NNEB) and then travelled to Chicago to become a live in Nanny which only lasted 4 months. That’s a story for another day!
I worked as a Nanny for several different families whilst starting out on my career path and then progressed to supporting young single Mother’s with children and often times, children at risk.
Over the years, I have worked within a specific needs capacity, intensive behaviour support and learning support.
I have also run three small businesses part time whilst being a stay at home mum and not forgetting all the extra jobs to earn money whilst caring for my young family-working in a shop, taking in foreign students, cleaning, care in the community and ‘out work’ which consisted of putting screws in to tiny plastic bags.
I have certainly have had a ‘varied’ working life.
Continuous personal development has always been a fundamental part of my growing and evolving and for many year’s I have continued to attend training courses and study many different schools of thought.
In 1999, I was so blessed to have been given the opportunity to travel to the USA and complete my Practitioner training in Humanistic Neuro-Linguistic Programming (HNLP) and then the following year, my Master Practitioner.
What I learned blew my mind away and challenged my core beliefs and values.
I literally felt like I had woken up and my thinking changed phenomenally. I began to see everyone and everything around me, from a completely different view point and this led to my ability to have a greater understanding of who you are and why you do the things you do.
The difficulty for me was that I had made such a significant change and was ready to take onthe world but the world (the tiny Island I live on) wasn’t ready for me and I was often met with hostility and sometimes humour when in conversation with others about this modern and new way of thinking.
When I look back now, it was never really a modern way at all… I believe that the world just needed to catchup and wake up.
Over the past 20 year’s I have worked independently 1-1 with adults and young people in a therapeutic, support and mentoring role. Awareness about the possibilities for change for each and everyone of us is crucial if we are going to thrive and maintain a happy, healthy life.
My passion for my work is insurmountable.
My commitment to lead my client to a greater resolve has always been and will always be a humbling and profound experience.
I am full of gratitude to be able to serve.
My commitment to myself remains to be chaotic and I don’t use that word lightly. I am fully aware of the difficult path that I am choosing right now.
There are many lessons that I still have to learn…
Everyday is a new day which is met with new learning curves for me and that’s okay. I know that when I fully commit to myself, allowing my life to unfold gently without my pushing my past in front of me, then I will serve an even greater purpose to others.
For that… I am excited.
With studies of human potential and the mind body connection, we are beginning to reawaken and remember what we have always known…
Moving back home after my Father died, was extremely difficult for me.
I lived in fear before he died and now I was afraid he would appear as a ghost and having worked with children for many years, I now know and understand, that it really wasn’t necessary to be told that he died in my bed.
Some details are better left unsaid until a vulnerable mind is able to process it.
I was unable to enter the bedroom alone and refused to sleep in there too, so continued to share my Mother’s room for a further year.
Feelings of anxiety was rife and I can not say that anybody really understood how I felt-how could they? We are all individuals and make sense of our world differently and all those years ago, access to grief counselling or therapeutic help, wasn’t readily available.
There are three things in particular (apart from the obvious) that stand out for me that happened over the weeks that passed after his death.
At night my Mother would take me up to bed and say goodnight. She would then go downstairs to watch television. I’m sure, it was a much needed escape from the situation she found herself in and from a grieving teenager. I laid in what would have been my father’s bed and for as long as I possible, I managed the overwhelming fear that engulfed me.
All of a sudden the panic would take over and I’d rush down the stairs sobbing.
It felt impossible to contain the fear and anxiety.
My brothers were never really home at this point and my mother was trying to bring some normality back into our live’s. Bedtime for me, mean’t time out forher etc… I know that I would have felt safe, if the boys were upstairs nearby but instead I was alone in a room that was jammed packed with trauma, next to a room that felt full of loss and ultimately death.
My running downstairs went on for sometime and in the end my mother lost her patients with me and began to offer punishments as a threat if I didn’t stay in bed.
I just couldn’t do it.
She just couldn’t handle it… or me.
I remember clearly getting to the point where I would grab my bed pillow, creep down the staircase quietly and sit on the bottom step of the stairwell. I sat awkwardly on the step so that I could continuously turn my head upwards, in the direction of the landing, where my father may show himself.
I felt sure he would.
I was consumed with fear.
Eventually as I recall, one of my brothers found me sat upright, with my head in my lap on my pillow, asleep. On waking me, I cried telling him how afraid I was and that I was being told off for not staying in bed to which he reprimanded our Mother for not understanding.
Put simply, she didn’t have the energy or emotional understanding and was wrapped up in her own grief.
The second memory that is poignant, is when my big brother surprised me with a kitten one evening. Something of my own to love and nurture. He was living and working at a holiday camp at the time and a stray cat had given birth to a litter of kittens. My brother and his then girlfriend whose nickname was Tiggy, placed this tiny little tabby bundle of joy, into my arms whilst I was laying in bed, unable to sleep. My Mother knew nothing about it but my brother knew only too well, that she wouldn’t have the heart to take the kitten away from me.
I fell in love instantly and named the kitten Tiggy too.
My brother knew and understood how much I was struggling and I wanted so badly to go and live with him.
I hated it every time he left me.
At some stage I had to return to school and this is where the third most significant memory comes from. The day I went back, I remember walking up the main school pathway with my friend and people were staring at me. There was one particular group of girls stood to the side and one said very loudly;
“That’s the girl whose Dad just hung himself on the gas pipe out side of her house!”
The story that was spreading quickly around the school was that my father had hung himself on the gas pipe that lead from above the back door, to the shed, as a result of my mother failing to pay the bills.
I stare at this wall with crumbling stone the hard texture stares back at me I can not see a way through it seems impossible A crack appears a tiny space of light and if I pull each side the stone may fall or at least loosen It seems a mammoth task albeit the strength I think I have my arms are weak my body is tired my mind consumed I close my eyes and imagine a mighty gust a powerful force rising up from the earth and with one fair bash the wall is loosened if I dare to dream the wall may fall
I read on another blog that people aren’t really interested in reading your story unless you are giving them something back and I have been throwing myself the ‘what the fuck am I doing?’ line – (that’s an old pattern)
I’ve given back my entire life.
It has taken me years, literally years to do this and yes, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking for any feedback, acknowledgement, healing – of course I am. Isn’t everyone who chooses to open themselves up when writing a personal blog? I have also read numerous times that there is a book in everyone and yes, I want to write a book. Will this be the content? Who know’s… but for me it’s a start in my writing something down even if this get’s lost in a sea of a million other personal, painful life experiences.
I can offer so much.
I can and will teach other’s how to change their live’s through writing and speaking – it’s my life’s work my purpose for being and right now I am allowing my inner children to speak freely without judgement (from me) for they have been suffocating slowly, for many years.
Blogging is very new to me and I find WordPress quite difficult. I am still learning about tags and categories and some would say that it should be self explanatory but it’s not for me! I know that I also need to learn about copyrights and quoting others – what I can and can’t do.
This is my journey.
I am grateful for this space and I am grateful for anyone who read’s my story so I will ride the waves of not feeling good enough and see where it takes me…
To be more childlike, you don't have to give up being an adult. The fully integrated person is capable of being both an adult and a child simultaneously. Recapture the childlike feelings of wide-eyed excitement, spontaneous appreciation, cutting loose, and being full of awe and wonder at this magnificent universe. - Dr Wayne Dyer
All Rights Reserved – The boy in the chip shop 2019
There doesn’t seem to be a beginning for me, just a mixture of memories, some more powerful than others and in no particular order, allowing them to rise and fall .
My Father died when I was aged of 13.
My belief is that he had to die, in order for meto live and somewhere within his soul, he knew that. Its a struggle to remember him without the overwhelming feelings of fear and pain. Everything about him seems tainted with those two powerful emotions and I feel sad that I can’t find a single memory that is full of laughter or joy. Sorry Dad… My hope is that by writing my story down, it may evoke some happy memories that are stored somewhere within me.
It wasn’t until I discovered NLP and whilst on my training in the USA, that I realised I had emotional ‘stuff’ that needed dealing with. I have to add, that a NLP practitioner training is not the place for personal therapy in any event. During learning the processes, I experienced some emotional releases that were extraordinary and quite profound and my passion for helping others to do the same began. That was over 21 years ago.
The events leading up to my father’s death were extremely traumatic.
I remember one day when he was lying in bed in a drugged up stupor, slurring his words, telling me to write down his life story. In more coherent days he would say that the world needs to know the truth about his traumatic experience of being a child prisoner of war. He suffered mentally and physically for the entire 13 years of having him in my life and as a family, my mother and two older brothers, were marred by his suffering too. Even as a little girl I could feel the intense sorrow that seeped out from him and it was confusing. I’ve in turn carried his pain deep within me maybe to acknowledge him in some way. I loved my father so much but was terrified of him too. The double edge sword.
On the night before my father was found dead, I knelt down, sobbing, resting my elbows on the bed, placed my hands together and I prayed;
Dear Lord Please forgive me for the sins that I have committed. Please make my Dad die and take him to Heaven to be with you because if you don’t he will kill my Mum. Please Lord keep us safe, I’m so scared. Please forgive me. Amen
On a summers evening many years ago, I was standing in a queue at the local fish and chip shop waiting for my turn to be served. In front of me was a little boy who was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that looked like it had the reminants of a weeks worth of wearing on it. He was crying and pulling at the arm of his young Mother who was talking on her mobile phone. The child appeared to be no more than 4 or 5 years old and his knee was bleeding. As he cried and tugged at her arm, she pushed him away and the blood continued to trickle down his leg. The little boy with his arms stretched up to reach his mother, pounded on her stomach trying to get her attention and the Mother pushed harder at him to stop. The smell of alcohol from the young lady was so strong and she was slurred and staggering. After several attempts to bring her attention to his knee and being met with her aggression, he finally gave up.
The boy in the chip shop stood with one side of his face buried into his Mothers thighs, staring at me and periodically looking down at his wound. Tears rolled down his filthy, beautiful little face.
In that very moment I felt a whole wave of different emotions from anger, frustration and fear, to pity and a deep sense of sadness. The Mother part of me wanted to scoop this child up and wipe away his tears. I wanted him to know that he was loved and that he would be okay. I wanted to shout at the Mother to put the phone down and acknowledge her son and his needs as she seemed oblivious to the discomfort that he was in. Instead I stood by and did nothing and felt ashamed for not intervening with at the very least a tissue for his knee and also ashamed for judging a young person who was clearly not much more than a child herself. You see, I let fear ride over me once again, because she was drunk. I was afraid of the repercussions for the child and myself. If I brought the fact that she was ignoring him, to her drunk attention, I didn’t know how she would react. I remember being frightened as a child. I remember trying to get my fathers attention when he was so drugged up. I remember…
I made a promise to myself all those years ago that I would acknowledge that little boy by dedicating my first piece of public writing to him because he touched my heart that evening and I will always remember him.