Yesterday I wrote a piece about how it was 4 years since I picked up my first self help book, when I realised that the damaging effect of, and types of narcissistic behaviour that had dominated my life, that piece is here:
4 Year ago the same month was also my first session with a therapist, and even deciding to do therapy felt like a deep personal shift in loving myself
The thing I realised to is that its been 4 years.
If I’m honest with myself, I kind of knew that the process of recovering from the childhood experiences, the abusiveness of my principle care giver (to give a more technical term), it was going to take significant time. It’ll be one reason why it took me having to hit rock bottom, and also have safe emotional space to start to deal with it.
Though part of me might have wanted a quick -fix, there was and is no such thing.
4 years, and the road still continues.
I wouldnt say that even at this point that ‘I have dealt’ with everything.
Im just walking. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes sitting on a bench. Sometimes taking a risk and putting my feet in the water. Sometimes letting the metaphorical emotions, memories, dreams and moments be felt on my face, like the wind. Sometimes feel like I’m walking and getting lost or stuck, and in those moments there’s been many tools, and guides along the way, encouaragers and supporters. Revisits to therapy. Reminders of what I knew. Reminders even that in tiring and stressful moments, I’m likely to forget what I knew.
I still need to remember to breathe. I mean Im not going to be able to walk very far without breathing. But even that basic thing, I can easily forget.
I still need to remind myself not to avoid feeling feelings – like getting a stone in my shoe on a hike, feel, notice, and respond.
I still need to remind myself of my own strength, and to be kind on myself – getting lost on a walk might be an adventure in disguise.
I still need to remind myself to notice the beauty moments along the way. The equivalent of the wild flowers or tiny insects on walk
as well as some of the larger moments, that seem like clouds shifting and light pouring in. Storms on a walk dont seem fun, but they can shift the air around. With no storms there’s no rainbow.
I still need be reminded of the universe. The universe that speaks in the loud storm or the colourful rainbow, the tiny insect of the rumbling waters over the weir. To be reminded to listen, and to hear in that moment, to sense, to feel, to appreciate.
Its a long road.
Ive had times when I thought, ‘yeah’ I’m sorted now. But then I get the ‘opportunity’ to face something else, to notice something in my shadow, to sense grief, or realise where I had stopped listening. Complacency doesn’t seem to be appropriate on this walk.
Its a long road and its one step at a time.
Its a long road, but at least I can sense myself on the road.
Im not just watching the road, or watching others on the road.
But sensing that I am on the road. The long road of life
That I am on.
I am making it happen. I am walking. One slow step at a time.
Life on the road.
Lord I dont know where I’m going, but I am walking.
One conscious present moment at time.
The long road – the long road of life,
The long road – of being conscious me in the moment of each step.
Learning and Feeling along the way.
Points of gratitude. Moments of the guiding Universe.
Sometimes days have a special significance dont they. I remember clearly the day I got my A level results, the days when my children were born, days of celebration, and where I was when I heard significant news, like my grandparents deaths. Positively recently I remember so much about the day of my wedding with Christelle (it wasn’t that long ago)
But there is one other day in my life that had a significant impact upon my life… it was the day I realised what narcissism is, and the extent to which my mother is one.
There is a slight blurring to this story, however, is that in 2006 I was reading a paper whilst I was doing my Youth work and Theology degree at ICC, Glasgow which described the difference between listening with a young person with empathy, and taking a story that a young person shares and using it to launch into your own, this was described as being narcissistic. That was the first time I had heard this word. I did also underline the word on the paper and write in the margin ‘Remind me of anyone’ . A seed had been sown.
The other blurring in the clarity is that it was only a few years later in 2008 when fairly serious incidents that revealed this behaviour. The fall out from this was that ‘nothing changed’ or responsibility was taken. But at that time I didnt equate or delve into what narcissist behaviour was, was just in a swirl of denials.
Anyway, back to the story, rather than the pre amble.
I was in a cafe just outside Durham with one of my best friends, it was just after Christmas, the day after Boxing Day, 4 years ago. I was recounting how the few days of Christmas had gone, as there was a lot of tension around the family home at the time. For some reason the subject came up that I hadn’t spent time with my parents or spoken to them over the Christmas time, and I said something about how weird they were.
My friend asked me whether I thought, no actually she said, ‘Your Mother is a narcissist isn’t she?’
I may have done my usual and passed this off, or said ‘yeah I know’ or something like that. I didnt know, or didnt realise the extent to which this truth had affected my entire life, or would be part of what my life recovery would take.
I knew that she was difficult. I knew that she sucked the life out of every room. I knew that she was emotionally unstable. I knew that also she had the capacity to upset everyone. I knew that she didnt listen.
But a Narcissist? What’s that ?
What I hadn’t done until that point was begin the process of doing the work.
Firstly of recognising the problem. Secondly of releasing myself from the responsibility of the problem and changing myself. Thirdly of naming it. Fourthly and this is the ongoing bit – of realising the extent to which I have ongoing recovery to do because of the deep personality issues that dominated my childhood.
None of this could be done until I had the space to see it.
And I could only see it when someone who had experience of it could identify it.
A week later the book arrived as I received a copy.
In it Nina describes the characteristics of healthy parents (none of which I could recognise) and then 4 types of Self Absorbed Parents, 3 of which I could identify in mother, but definitely strongly one of them.
Though the book didnt stop there.
Nina described the way in which I had reacted and responded to my parents, and my own self destructive, self limiting responses to them – to either pacify, soothe or avoid – also flight, or fight/anger responses. She went on to describe how to protect the self, in the midst of the narcissistic interaction, and afterwards. There’s also coping strategies for each type of parent.
This was my first ‘self help’ book I had read.
It was like scales and weights falling, as I could see clearly for the first time the extent of what I had tried to cope with, alone, and also how I had reduced myself in the process, of 40 years, yet at the same done what I thought I should do for my own survival.
I thought that the stuff I suffered with my mother were impossible to describe, too weird, too crazy to recognise, yet this book described my experiences. It describes what emotional control, abuse, belligerence and victim playing looks like. And I had experienced it all.
I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only one.
That was so important.
And if this might be you, know that you aren’t alone either.
I confess to not doing all of the exercises in Nina’s book, the scoring charts in the beginning were enough for me to be able to do some accurate identification.
But It wasn’t that I now had someone to blame. It wasn’t that I now took this information and stereotypically ‘blamed my childhood’ , and I hope that from what ive ever written on this blog I haven’t done that, I certainly haven’t tried to. What the information did for me was to help me see who I was, how I coped and survived, and what I now needed to do, and how I had been affected by it.
The important thing was that it was that I could let go of things I had felt responsible for.
And four years later, can feel more compassionate about my child James, teenage James and mid twenties and thirties James – who was trying to do life with a void, a void that had had things taken.
And now I knew. I had avoided wanting to know, feeling the pain to be too great, even though a number of people had been trying to tell me, I hadn’t listened, not fully.
Part of my healing journey, was the day I realised that my mother was a narcissist. There were other significant moments, but this was definitely one of them.
Thank you for reading, if there’s something in this that you resonate with, do seek out professional help and therapy if you can, acknowledging this is a first step, making a move of self love to begin a healing journey is courageous and beautiful. I have other resources in the menu above including other books, and there’s a lot on you tube on responding to narcissism. Know that its time. Today is a good first day to start to recover and heal from this.
There are some people who can sleep on an aeroplane.
But I, sadly, am not one of them.
Since February 2020 I have now had the experience of many transatlantic flights to both Montreal and San Diego to meet, visit and spend time with Christelle. At least 12 flights over 6 hours long.
I had the ‘joy’ of the cancelled flight in July (re arranged to a direct 9hr flight :-)) , and last week a double cancelled, staying overnight in random city (Seattle) only for 2 more flights the next day experience.
This was me at Seattle…
Early in my flight experiences I didn’t have many ideas of ‘what to do’ and how it works, so I think on my first Montreal flight I packed a bag full of food, as I didnt click the ‘food option’ but then on the BA flight got a decent 3 course meal, wine, beer and snacks, to my surprise.
But I often note other people to see what they are doing, like the use of the complimentary cushion, blanket or what’s on their TV to see if that’s something I would like.
Its not just what other people are doing. I like to know what is going on.
Every bell noise in the plane, I’m checking to see which of the lights has gone on or off, or whether this causes any sudden movement in the airline crew. What calls are being made. I like to know what’s going on.
The sleepers I guess dont care, they sleep.
But for some reason I care, or at least I feel as though I should care or be responsible, or be ready.
Even after an overnight of 4 hours sleep, and then on the second night flying from Detroit to Heathrow and losing 5 hours, I slept for less than 2 hours, but I at least slept a bit, I think. But it took for me to be completely exhausted to finally sleep, though never feeling that I was actually asleep. The display on the TV went from ‘4hr 40’ to arrival, to ‘1 hr 45’ and I know id been dozing only for much of it.
What I did this time was have an eye mask on, and ear plugs – and yes ive tried these things before, but they did work for the 2 hours or so this time. It helped me close away from the light and noise that represented things and situations I might need to be aware of.
Maybe that’s the same as everyone else. But, horror of horrors, there are some people on long distance flights who sleep so well they dont eat or drink anything complimentary? I mean what’s that all about? Who are these people? ;-) Hiding under a blanket and out for the count. Maybe they in that moment are doubly exhausted, and they can just crash.
But there’s something else.
There’s three things that come to mind as I reflect on my ‘plane’ sleep experiences.
The first is my experience of climbing.
Although I did have some outdoor experiences as a boy, climbing wasn’t one of them, it wasn’t until I was part of the leadership team on young peoples camps in Scotland that I took part in climbing, at two compass centres and on a trip to Edinburgh. I was a nervous, shaking wreck on the first two occasions, trying to get my feet into the ‘sockets’ and my arms reaching up, with barely any arm strength. The third time I went I made a mental note to myself. I would trust the rope. I would trust that the staff had done their work properly to set it up safely, and as a 29 year old I would be ok. But the main thing was, was that I would trust the rope. And I so enjoyed that third climbing experience. Trust.
The second is that Biblical story of Jesus being asleep in the storm, whilst the waves crash around their boat, Jesus slept, and yet the disciples exclaimed how it could be the case. I guess that some of the disciples stayed awake knowing they felt they had to be responsible for Jesus, given that they knew a little about who he was. As well as try and keep their boat afloat.
The third thing is that I remember taking ages to get to sleep as a child. I had to stay awake as I simultaneously felt responsible and scared of my emotionally immature psychopathic mother. So, in between reading books, I would be listening at each loud shouting conversation in the kitchen, in the floor below..and it was only one screechy voice that was making the noise. Id be awake listening for each time the hall door would open (as then id turn off my light) or know that the 2nd stair creaked, and then I would turn it off. And then there would be footsteps all the way to my bedroom door, because that’s also where the bathroom door was, next to mine, so I had no idea if I was about to be told off. Often I would be awake long after they would themselves be in bed. It was safe. Many books were read.
There was no sleep when there was a monster to be aware of.
Being aware of danger. Trust the rope (plane). Feeling responsible.
There is a different kind of awareness I often feel on a plane too.
Its a gap, a space.
And though I often take books to read (very old school) , what I often find is that I have felt travel tense until I get to the gate and on the plane. However I dont have anything to worry about, there’s travel to the airport (trains to Newcastle or London), security queues and going through it, and any check in required, it doesn’t sound much, writing it, but even with trains on time or a short tube from somewhere in London to Heathrow, I still have some residual travel anxiety. So, getting into my seat on the plane, each time, I get a sense of relief, and also a sense of excitement of the travel to Christelle, which up until then has been mixed with the travel anxiety.
A breath. An awareness moment on the plane. I go from being anxious about my own getting on the flight process – to then feeling like I am needing to be aware and responsible for other people on the plane. Hence the no sleep. Weird huh. But what I dont have or do on the plane is have wifi – I just charge my phone, eat the food and take time selecting and watching a movie or three. (Yes I have now watched the entire LOTR and Harry Potter films)
in it he talks about responding to that great challenge… The Cancelled flight. Also about how to have a kind of alertness on a plane. ✈️
Im learning. I noted how I responded to my double cancelled flight issue of last week, that’s for another piece I think. Life spills over even on 48 hours of travel.
Tolle talks about the right kind of alertness. About acceptance and surrender.
Maybe noticing all my feelings is part of all of this. It isn’t taking me long to note how I’m feeling anxious, or overly alert. Sometime my survival skills kick in, other times I give myself the time to stop, note and feel, and remember to breathe. Continually practicing presence.
Through Im not exactly sure where this enjoyment came from. Yes I learned to cook in my twenties, though I do recollect cooking at school and also making myself food at times from the age of 15-16. I do vaguely remember not being able to cook a roast dinner, but realising that I could cook other things at the time. In my Oasis gap year I remember some horrific cooking moments, but I dont remember what I cooked, but I must have done so.
So, any way, bottom line, is it kind of just happened.
Oh and I do remember the ‘cult’ TV programme at the time was ‘Ready Steady Cook’ , 30 minutes of supposedly spontaneous responsive cooking with chefs only being able to use the contents of a carrier bag… oh and an entire cupboard of butter, vinegars, oils, spices and herbs… so maybe this was one place where the interest was sparked…
For as you may have read previously, it wasn’t as if I was blessed by growing up with someone who loved cooking, valued or delighted in it, in fact the opposite…
Anyway, up to the present.
I became a vegetarian over 3 years ago, a month after I moved into my own flat, primarily for health, cost, environment and also ease of cooking reasons. It had been something I had been close to being for a long while.
One of the key learning points in the life journey that I have been going on, and it affects the way I treat my body, including what I eat, has been to value myself, and so generally I have tried to cook myself decent, healthy food, even if I am only cooking for myself on a day to day basis.
That’s weird. Im not ‘only’ cooking for myself. I am not an only. I am important.
Cooking nice food feels quite a therapeutic action, and equally cooking nice, healthy food that I can readily eat on a work day has been so important.
What I also do is ensure that I sit up to the table to eat, as if to say the this is a good valuable practice for myself to value the routine of eating. I heard this tip years ago and have stuck to it, mostly.
I also sort of accidentally discovered batch cooking. Although I have had a fairly good kitchen, I have only 2-3 pans, including my favourite, a large red cast iron pot that I bought for £25 (reduced from £110). Ive never had a microwave.
Part of my cooking joy is to try new recipes, and be inspired by others. Like these sweet potato wraps which Christelle and I found the recipe for.
Yet, a reality of day to day is that sometimes it is just easier for me to cook my staple vegetarian favourites. I usually ‘cook’ fresh on a Saturday and/or Sunday – and then I have 2,3 or 4 pots left over of each dish for the fridge or freezer, and this gives me meal size portions which I try and remember to get out the freezer on the morning, to reheat and add pasta, rice or potato to. It doesn’t always work like this, for example yesterday I cooked fresh. And maybe on my last working day of the week, used to be Thursday, is now Friday, I might cook something.
I thought I would share with you a few of my ‘go-to’ dishes, that I would regard as vegetarian batch cooking. I pack my food usually with lots of spices. I have a cupboard full of them, but also sometimes I end of throwing away stale ginger or growing garlic, any ideas own what I can do to preserve these? – comments below – (chillis I freeze) .
Frittata. This required me to purchase a non stick oven proof frying pan. For £10 in Asda. This dish , though hard to reheat the left overs, is great for using up things like onions, potatoes, green veg like broccoli, a chilli, and if ive optimistically thought at the beginning of the week that I would eat eggs, and haven’t, then all 6 eggs go in, and it tastes divine. The original recipe I saw for this a few years ago was with chorizo sausage, which I now obviously dont add, but, if I remember and have them I add vegetarian sausages instead. And dont underestimate how yummy this is cold the next day when out walking. Fry everything, add the eggs, cheese and any fresh herbs (rosemary or parsley are best) then bake. Careful of the frying pan handle, its hot. (I probably over scorched the broccoli on this one…)
2. Sweet Potato Curry. Ill keep it simple, its this recipe. I stick to it, its phenomenal and I make this easily on a monthly basis.
3. Some kind of vegetarian sausage bake. This doesn’t have a name, but its a combination of frying onion, garlic, celery and carrots, then peppers, adding this to chopped fried vegetarian sausages, adding spices such as paprika, smoked paprika, chilli, herbs, and lentils too, then tomatoes, chick peas and whatever beans I fancy, usually butter beans and kidney beans. This recipe ensures that one sausage pack can go 4-5 meals, and it has lots of vegetables, beans and lentils in it. It doesn’t look pretty, but then again, not everything has too. Reheat, with pasta or potato, and add cheese too…
4. Vegetarian Chilli. Same as beef chilli but with Quorn Mince.
5. Lentil and vegetable bake. The recipe for the end of the month, when all I have actually left in the fridge is carrots, celery and onion – so they get combined, with lentils, stock, spices and puree, and then there’s 3-4 meals, to add with pasta.
6. Vegetarian Ramen.
Ok so not strictly a batch dish, as realistically it can only be reheated fresh, But this is good for the increase vegetable and egg content, for vitamins and protein. I make this a variety of ways, so its difficult to describe. Usually fry onion, ginger, chilli, maybe fresh coriander, add Chinese five spice and soy, add stock, simmer, add veg like peppers, broccoli, carrots. Pre boil eggs and if feeling adventurous fry some pak choi. Then either add to the liquid on pack of noodles, or boil these separate. Serve by putting some soy in a bowl, add liquid/veg, then noodles and eggs, pak choi and then top with coriander, green onions, sliced chilli or dried chilli…
It’s not a quick dish, and yes its on the more expensive, though it doesn’t use any vegetarian ‘meat’ which saves a bit of money. Neither doesn’t it reheat that well compared to the others, the best way ive found is to just keep the ‘juice’ and freshly boil the veg and noodles each day.
As well as cooking food, watching food shows has been something ive done a lot of for a number of years, maybe that’s for another piece. This one is a bit of a crossover of reflecting on how my cooking reflected my internal view of myself, how I had to internalise feelings of positivity for myself, my body and health and then my eating habits changed considerably. Other ‘diets’ I tried did work temporarily, but many of these were from a place of self denial. I was also inspired by this short piece on the BBC yesterday on batch cooking, so I thought id share what I do, and also ask for any inspiration from you for vegetarian batch dishes I could try, please do comment below.
I love cooking, please do inspire me with your food and photos!
Ah yes, you say not another end of the year review blogs, segments or pieces. I’ve wondered for a while what I might write that’s appropriate for the ‘end of 2022’ as a review piece.
I think I’ve read over 30 books this year, nearly all with some kind of self-help / journey / learning theme , and beyond what there’s been everything else that I’ve read I’ve felt and learned in the year, so maybe this is a bit of a reflective combination piece, some of the best books and most important learning from the year, for me.
So, starting with the best books, I’m.not sure how I’ve narrowed these down to 5, but these are the ones that gave me the most wow moments, the most underlined with pencil marks or post it’s, or that stayed on my coffee table to read and read throught the year
4. Heartwork a book of Self compassion by Radule Weininger
5. The space between us, A book of blessings by John O Donohue
I look at the choice of these 5 books, and realise that they encapsulated many of the paths my self learning has taken this year, there have been moments where I felt I needed to come close to understanding my childhood trauma and it’s effects, and understand trauma generally. Dibs is a brilliant book. It helped me see myself and also the children and young people around. The
I knew The Choice would be one of my top books of the year, even as it was one of the first I read in 2022, so much wisdom and story included in it, so much to learn on recovery from Trauma and the rebuild. The Choice is so good that I struggled to find anything new in Man’s Search for meaning (Victor Frankl) which I also read this year., Meaningful though it was.
It’s definitely been the case that over the last 18 months or so I have read more in relation to spirituality and personal growth. The Power of Now was a game changer for me when I read it about 18 months ago, A New Earth has stayed on my coffee table and been picked up regularly for most of the year.
Part of that Spiritual growth has taken me to Self compassion. It’s been the learning theme I have ended the year beginning. It’s a path that has revealed much to me so far, as I’ve stepped to one side of being self critical, self loathing, guilt and responsibility, it’s introduced me and reminded me that I can receive, I am worthy, I am of value, as are my emotions and feelings. And though I know all this, I’m realising there’s a difference between knowing it and living as if I believe it to be true. Heart work, the book, was like being sat with a duvet by the fire, it felt a safe book to read and then gently sense the parts of me that were being revealed through the stories, as well as sit with the exercises that she suggests. And this is before I give myself time to do the journal that she suggests to do.
John O Donohue appeared like a mystery from a charity book shop in November, and given me an opportunity to practice self compassion through creating the space to read and meditate on the blessings.
There are some other honourable mentions, Matt Haig’s midnight library and How to stop time were both very good, and I loved Ruth Ozekis ‘The book of form and emptiness’ . I’m re reading The Universal Christ (Richard Rohr) for the second time to Christelle as I think there’s alot in it to enjoy. (Reading aloud does enable a new perspective) The Seat of the Soul, and Spiritual Partnership by Gary Zukav were both good too. Links to all these and others are in the resources page above.
So there we have it, my top 5 self learning books of the year, these were the ones that caused my heart to feel opened, to be a spiritual experience in just reading them and provoke and accompany me on this life journey.
May you, may I have a blessed, learning and compassionate 2023.
Just stopping by on the beginning of Christmas week 2022, in the midst of me getting ready to cook some food for my son and his girlfriend, and then as I travel on trains tomorrow and planes on Wednesday to be with my beautiful wife Christelle for Christmas.
A moment of calm. Nat King Cole is playing. The Christmas lights and candles are glowing. Apple and Cinnamon scent is wafting around, presents have been wrapped and its a moment to breathe.
A moment to notice.
A moment to appreciate feeling safe. A moment to appreciate feeling love. A moment to be thankful, to be grateful. A moment to feel, and notice that moments like this, gaps, are not to be frightened of anymore. Its these cracks where love washes in.
Its 4.30pm and its not been all like this all day. Ive carried a pre Christmas and travel to do list around in my head all day, whilst also being at work for the last day. But now, having scurried around a bit for the day, Im having just a moment of me time.
Breathing slowly. Noticing the light of the candle. Feeling.
Realising too, the effort its taken, the effort Ive taken to get to where I am, this year. A lot has been happening. There’s been some dark moments of reliving trauma, abuse and suffering. There’s been times of facing my own complex vulnerabilities, of embracing what’s its meant by being self compassionate, of enjoying receiving, of making choices about responding to what I’m actually feeling day by day.
So I sit here, feeling a sense of love for myself, acceptance of myself, and feeling relaxed as I take one then another breath. Grateful for the vulnerable giants whose own shared lives have inspired, encouraged and caused me to dig deep into my own heart, power and strength, Brene Brown, Gary Zukav, Paulo Coelho, Edith Eger, Matt Haig, your life story, your fictions and your insight is truly transformative. The therapists in person, and the therapy groups on Facebook – there’s many a time you have struck a chord and enabled me to come face to face with a new reality, so thank you, North Brisbane Psychotherapists, Dr Glenn Patrick Doyle, Mike Philips and Patrick Weaver Ministries. Thank you.
But Christmas.
Somehow as I sit here and in conversation with Christelle, we shared about how this time can be a weird one for those of us rebuilding our lives after childhood trauma. Weird in that kind of way of noticing, facing, and accepting the moments that aren’t so apparent in April , June or September. Pain in a Christmas movie can be about grief for the much loved parent who isn’t around – rarely one who was abusive. (yes I know, no one wants that Christmas movie)
Christmas time gives opportunities for continued self love, tenderness and self- compassion.
Know that its ok to feel whatever Christmas feels for you. Feel that mystery of love deep within your wounded heart and soul. Neither I, neither you are the pain or shame.
May I share with you this blessing, as a gift, from John O Donohue, as I also say thank you, and do have a truly restful, calm, loving, heartfelt, self compassionate Christmas.
A Prayer for the Awakened:
For Everything under the Sun, there is a time, This is the season of your harvest awakening, where pain takes you where you would rather not go.
Through the white curtain of yesterdays to a place you had forgotten you knew from the Inside out, And a time when that bitter tree was planted.
That has grown always invisibly beside you, and whose branches your awakened hands, now long to disentangle from your heart.
You are coming to see how your looking often darkened, When you should have felt safe enough to fall towards love; How deep down your eyes were always owned by something.
That faced them through a dark fester of thorns, Converting whoever came into a further figure of the wrong, You could only see what touched you as already torn.
Now the act of seeing begins your work of mourning, and your memory is ready to show you everything, having waited all these years for you to return and know.
Only you know where the casket of pain is interred, You will have to scare through all the layers of covering, And according to your readiness, everything will open.
May you be blessed with a wise and compassionate guide, Who can accompany you through the fear and grief, until your heart has wept its way to your true self.
As your tears fall over that wounded place,
May they wash away the hurt and free your heart
May your forgiveness still – the hunger of the wound
So that for the first time you can walk away from that place, Reunited with your banished heart, now healed and freed
And feel the clear, free air bless your new face
For Someone Awakening to the Trauma of their past – John O Donohue
Be Still friends, and Know that you are love – Happy Christmas to you
For the very positive responses, comments and feedback from my recent blog about ‘1000 days since leaving Church‘ which I published just over a week ago.
I did not quite realise, though had I thought about it, I may have also realised it, quite how common my experience has been.
Thank you for reading, sharing and commenting on it, thank you.
Its been very apparent in the comments, both public and private to me, from youth workers, pioneer folks, leaders in churches and denominations, for how many folks, they had to leave church, to re-find God, and find a faith.
I guess I wasn’t brave enough to do it all those years ago.
I guess I still wanted something about what ‘organised church’ could offer, anyway..
So, thank you.
Thank you for reaching out, thank you for encouraging me on the same journey.
And that’s just it, its a journey. Cliche alert.
I haven’t ‘made it’ , neither have I the answers, and any certainty expressed sometimes comes back as vulnerability or a lesson to be learned.
But something feels more coherent.
I found home in myself, in a way that I was trying to find home elsewhere.
There was a hole in my life and heart – it wasn’t God shaped, it was because of childhood abuse, because of neglect. That God was an external being to surrender to and lose myself to – despite an internal ache that never went away.
Haemin Sunim says this:
We must cultivate all three intelligences for our overall health
Critical intelligence, emotional intelligence and Spiritual intelligence
If one falls to the wayside, it slows the growth of the other two
Haemin Sunim, Things you can only see when we slow down.
If I were to do a 3 way audit of these three intelligences at different times in my life – what would I have found – how might this pie chart look like?
Something like this, probably
And that’s 5% emotional intelligence and awareness on a good day.
In fact I was scared of those weird things like emotions, best to stay disconnected from them, dissociate, and stay in my head. That was the safe place. Critical intelligence to the absolute full. God is to be understood and not felt.
But without all three, no growth. No heart. Or peace. Or Joy. Or love.
What I had been looking for, was closer than I realised. Everything I needed was within, and I have just had to be given permission, and the tools to see it. I just Am. (as are you)
I like this from John O’Donohue too, on coming home to yourself:
May all the is unforgiven in you
Be Released,
May all your fears yield
Their deepest tranquilities.
May all that is unloved in you
Blossom into a future
Graced with love.
So…..Thank you , I am very grateful and appreciative, I really am.
When the light around you lessens And your thoughts darken until Your body feels fear turn Cold as stone inside
When you find yourself bereft Of any belief in yourself And all you unknowingly Leaned on has fallen
When one voice commands Your whole heart And it is raven dark
Steady yourself and see That it is your own thinking That darkens your world,
Search and you will find A diamond-thought of light
Know that you are not alone And that this darkness has purpose Gradually it will school your eyes To find the one gift your life requires Hidden within this night-corner
Invoke the learning Of every suffering You have suffered
Close your eyes Gather all the kindling About your heart To create one spark That is all you need To nourish the flame That will cleanse the dark Of its weight of festered fear
A New confidence will come alive To urge you to higher ground Where your imagination Will learn to engage difficulty As its most rewarding activity.
At least for me it can sometimes feel like it, I dont always know what I’m going to pick up, or what is going to stick. Or the importance of some of those small insignificant moments at the time.
Or the way in which one persons journey inspires my own.
Its that thing, what I learned I pass on to others, but also, by sharing my story could end up being someone else survival manual.
So this one starts with a Sword.
Because if there wasn’t a sword, there wouldnt be a story.
And if there wasn’t a story, many millions, including myself wouldnt have found the life sparkles, glimpses of God, love, destiny and power as described by Paulo Coelho.
But my story of Paulo Coelho started in a headmasters office in Billingham, near Middlesbrough in April 2018.
I was doing a piece of community work for my then employers, FYT, in which I was conducting a community profile, including a semi structured questionnaire with , I think a headteacher or deputy headteacher in their office, at around about 4pm or so, school was empty. I remember the interview going well, and the headteacher had a number of unusual inspirational quotes on their wall. Now up until then, like a good youth worker, the only Paulo’s that I knew of were Paulo Maldini (Italian footballer) and more obviously Paulo Freire. I dont remember the quote itself, but I do remember liking it, writing it down on a notepad and then having a conversation with the headteacher about Paulo Coelho, he said that he was a Brazilian writer.
It was an unexpected seed that stuck to me like velcro. At a time when I didnt realise how soon I might start having life revealed in the ways in which Paulo Coelho talks about it.
I can honestly say that reading to understand and reading to see life have been so part of my healing process, from within the dark times, and also since.
But sometimes the way in which some things have found me have been as mysterious, gifts from the universe, that are so difficult to explain.
Fast forward less than 9 months.
I am travelling from Sunderland to South Shields, from the friends house where I am staying, to my therapists office. It must be maybe my 2nd or 3rd session. Definitely not the first one. I have little money, though I have just started a new job. But one of the things I realise that I have started to enjoy is taking myself out for coffee, with a book. Enjoying the introvert life.
But this was slightly less relaxing as I’m in a strange place that I dont know, I’m nervous about therapy, and I have probably 30-40 mins to spare. So I park up, and walk into the town, and noted that as I drove past there was a community cafe/centre that was open.
I go in. Its basic looking – ie its a community cafe, its not Costa or Starbucks or a trendy independent coffee shop. It sells instant coffee in a polystyrene type cup for about £1, perfect. Luxury coffee would be too much when pre therapy angst was in the air.
They do have, however, a second hand book stall. Second, third or fourth hand, but that’s ok. Two books grabbed my attention. They shone to my attention. They were ‘The Alchemist’ , and also ‘Veronica Prepares to die’ both by Paolo Coelho. I pay only slightly more for these two books that I do the coffee. They appeared to me, at that right time. Even as I bought them I could sense some kind of universe destiny about them. As if they were a gift to me, as I started the long road of recovery , here was a gift, a guide along the way. I would have no idea about Paulo Coelho if it wasn’t for that Headmaster office in Billingham, but it was such a compelling moment that these books were calling for me at that time. And me being open to that nudge. To follow that mysterious calling…
I dont remember what happened in that therapy session. But I do remember that I started to read the Alchemist straight away. And…
Id like to say that I had a wonderful experience reading it, but it didnt quite resonate in the way that I half expected it too (given its very high popularity and readership), yes some nice phrases and it wasn’t that I didnt like the story, I just found it a bit to remote, too much in a world that I didnt understand yet to connect with.
Though I loved ‘Veronica prepares to die’. Maybe because at that time I needed to read something about dignity and life, and about facing the reality death, and in this moment life.
Paulo Coelho has accompanied me (and also Christelle) throughout both our healing journeys and our relationship together, we have read at least 8 books of his together , some I have read alone first, some we’ve read together. Some have shown us about love, about life, about power, about death, truth, victory, and also about faith, spirit and God.
We also re read The Alchemist, and it made more sense the second time, it resonated in a different way. But then again dont many books when we read them again? When we have changed, we see things differently.
And that’s the beauty of Paulo Coelho.
So, along with the many ‘self help’ reflective books I have read in the last few years,. and there’s been a lot – there hasn’t been more than a few months when I haven’t read a Paulo Coelho book, or even re read one.
I realised, that his journey, across the strange road to San Tiago, Spain, started with his search for his sword.
And as a consequence of searching for his sword, found more besides, and as a consequence of his journey Paulo, then wrote, stating in the Authors note afterwards, how this journey inspired him to write. His self discovery started with a sword, a faith, The Tradition.
I realise that many of the Paulo Coelho books have found me, its been rare that I have searched them deliberately. At least 5 have been ‘found’ in second hand bookstores, in places where I was only there momentarily, Dundee, Stockton, and those two in South Shields to start off with. Its like gifts from the universe. It makes me realise how much it has been a variety of books that have accompanied me along the way, and Paulo Coelho’s fiction has almost balanced my desire for understanding and knowledge, and provided a different kind of wisdom, through story, as story. Some of Paulo Coelho, is his story.
As Coelho says, ‘The universe conspires to help the dreamer.’
Sometimes that ‘help’ has been in the form of therapists, or self help books, friends and gifts. Other times its been the stories of Paulo Coelho that have prompted my heart, soul and spirit, they have been spiritual experiences in themselves. Ill write this elsewhere, but he is definitely an author I feel safe with.
I used to think there was only one Paulo (Friere) that was worth reading, now id say that my life is fuller because of the universe gifts from Paulo Coelho.
Who’d have thought this would have started from a headteachers office in Billingham?
” When you want something, all the universe conspires to help you achieve it”
(Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist)
Im trying in a way to describe something that feels very deep and meaningful, but strangely dont have the words. Maybe its because the depth of Paulo Coelho is there for those who want to read him for themselves. Ive loved being led and guided by his journeys, maybe you will do too?
James Ballantyne 