James Ballantyne

Category: Journey

  • The letter any Narc Abuse survivor could write.

    It changed my entire life when I was able to stand back, to stand in some safe distance from damaging relationships and realise what the patterns were of them. Even now, I have to remember what I know , and remember that I have power because I know, and so, I am writing this for you, for you if you need it when you begin to realise that you have been a genuine victim of someone who is displaying (but would never get tested for) NPD, sociopathy or psychopathy – or a combination of all three. This is for you realise that this knowledge is actually power. Power also that means that you have yourself, you have awareness, you don’t have to play the games, you are, and you are more than their jealous projections.

    But this is not about them, this about you, it’s about me, it’s about knowing, and knowing freedom, knowing our strength and the power of the truth that we have . It is time to live. I wrote this letter privately the other day, and by writing it, it gave me power, because then, I knew, I felt, power, and this is is important to have after abuse. Then I realised that the abuse I suffered isnt unique, and neither are the behaviours a Narc makes either, so by sharing this with you, I hope it gives you power too.

    Dear They-who-might-not-be named Dark Triad* Abuser,

    I know,

    I know,

    I can see what you do,

    I can see the patterns of how you are working

    I know how you are constantly trying to cover your tracks

    I know your lies,

    I know your stories,

    I know your strategies,

    I know your toxins and your poison.

    I know your thirst for power, and how it consumes you.

    I know how much you think you have power, and how fragile that is

    I know.

    I have your lies on paper,

    I know how you threaten to silence those who might call you out,

    I know how you invalidate others who might say the same,

    I know how you manipulate .

    I know how you operate from anger and jealousy, and can only verbalise love, compassion or empathy.

    I know how you’re clinging onto work, as you have nothing else.

    I know your lies.

    I know you have delusions instead of truth.

    I know that you can’t admit your wrongdoing,

    I know that a mirror threatens you, when you dare to look inside,

    I know that you have no peace, no joy, no happiness,

    I know your love-less existence and how you make this out to be ‘the real world’ ,

    I know your whiny voices, that give Harry Potter Headaches.

    I know how you have to pretend to care

    I know the destruction lies in your wake

    I know how you have to tell stories to convince yourself that none of it was you

    I know the monkeys who you employ to do your work, as they swing back and forwards, still trapped in your haunted gaze.

    I know the monkeys that have inherited your games

    I know how the system could only see the pretend version of you.

    I know how you have twisted God into your delusions to justify yourself

    I know the neediness script that you cling to.

    I know your inconsistencies and your self denials

    I know your wounded ego

    I know your haunted eyes that gaze on power

    I know you, and thats more than you know yourself.

    I know

    I know

    I know

    I know it all.

    I know your games that make you the same as all the others.

    I know

    I know that this letter could be said about anyone who plays your games,

    I know how you fear losing your special status or victim positioning

    I know.

    And I can have and be all the things that you could never be.

    Thank you for the lessons I have had to learn to rid myself of you

    Thank you for the projections that I now embrace

    Thank you for knowledge that gives me power

    Thank you for revealing yourself to me, fully and finally

    Thank you for giving me the opportunity to realise who I am

    Thank you for my survival story.

    Thank you for confirming in your actions what deep down I already knew.

    That you were not to be trusted, and not to be true.

    So now its time, narc destructor, for me

    to let go of the lead again

    And let your growling gnashing of teeth scowl within your own created existence.

    And its time

    For me

    To breathe again, finally reminded of my freedom.

    And my power

    That you wanted to destroy

    But I am here.

    and I know.

    And I am still standing.

    And I am Free.

    Regards,

    Any Narcissist Survivor.

  • Writing the Rainbows

    I sometimes, no, often, get myself into a spin.

    It happens, that when something is challenging, difficult and messy (mild words for ‘WTF is going on?’)

    I write. I write for myself, with words you will never see.

    I write for myself – and they end up in the draft pile

    I write for myself, with words that you sometimes see

    I have thoughts and ideas of stuff I could write about and come back to later.

    I also, in the moments through the mind swirl of the WTF moments, develop new creative interests.

    Oh, I just realised.

    STFU James.

    I haven’t existed without ‘that’ mind swirl.

    There has barely been times when the damaging effect of my psychopathic parents doesn’t have some underlying, or explicit effect, that I might be in the midst of processing, learning, and regrouping myself from, the ‘big’ feelings.

    But what I find interesting, is that I struggle to write, or even want to write when im not having to wrestle, churn or try and deal with something.

    Its as if there’s creative energy from within it.

    Expression through Depression for want for a better word.

    And there’s something interesting too.

    I find it really easy to invalidate my own work – not because it’s not any good.

    But because of what I was going through at the time.

    It’s like ‘ I dont think I’ll publish that, because I was definitely having a WTF kind of day?’

    Yes I should check what motives I have for writing, and sometimes I get that wrong, I know – I mean not every one of 1000 blogs in 12 years is with a perfect motive, some cross the line – especially if I have been angry with the government ;-)

    But it’s like saying that The Verve shouldn’t have written Bitter sweet symphony when in a depeessive state and waited until they were feeling ok… and as for Damien Rice..

    Maybe I have been conditioned to only validate what I write when im feeling good – so not to overshare too much darkness? But is that hopeful or real? Because you really want to hear how I am ok now, but felt shit a few weeks ago, and look at me, giving a great redemptive arc story.

    Maybe there’s inspiration in the sticky muddy mess of life, and creativity through and in the pain, maybe thats more human. Maybe polished, is just that, polished, pretend and shiny. Maybe I should just write, because that may be what I am good at. Maybe there is no perfect time to write, maybe actually there will only be ‘in the midst’ of long term processing and remaking (I still reluctant to use recovery as a term tbh) , and there will be pockets of light punctuating the revealing and discoveries. Maybe there’s something about the gritty struggle as much as when it’s like riding s bike downhill with the wind in the back. The glimpses of blissful consciousness concurrent in fields where poppies and thorns grow.

    Isnt that what good poetry or songwriting is all about anyway?

    Creativity in and through the rainbows of clouds, sunshine and rain.

    Holding the float out to surf on the calm and choppy waves

    To let the flow of creativity ride, sink or swim on the waves.

    Time to write about surfing, sinking or swimming through the waves,

    Time to write about life in all its becoming wholeness

    Time to release the wrestling with writing, and let it flow.

    To open up the doorways into which the channels of life flows.

  • From Breaking to Awakening.

    Awakening:

    Comes, from

    Breakening,

    Surrendering,

    Feeling,

    Shouting,

    Raging,

    Crying,

    Shaking,

    Hurting,

    Fearing,

    Swearing,

    Grieving ,

    Hurting,

    Confusing,

    Darkening,

    Spiralling,

    down down down….

    further, down…

    Until:

    Then…waiting…

    Silencing,

    Listening,

    Remembering,

    Resetting,

    Knowing ,

    Singing,

    Sparking,

    Firing,

    Loving,

    Healing,

    Soothing,

    Realising,

    Changing,

    Self respecting,

    Self loving,

    Warm compassion wins again.

    Gently,

    All over again.

    Recovering,

    Forgiving,

    Loving,

    Repeating the cycle

    Breakening,

    Healing,

    Breathing,

    Living,

    Flourishing

    Finding

    The real you, inside it all.

    Life- giving

    Life- receiving

    Making

    Renewing

    Awakening.

  • I am not my Pencil Case

    The other day I was reading Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth, it is quite a remarkable book, its probably the third time I have read it in the last 18 months, and whilst it didnt have the same spiritual effect on me a The Power of Now did, it is high on my list of books in which the process of reading has been a spiritual experience.

    On Page 189; Eckhart writes this:

    Nobody can tell you who you are, It would be just another concept and so this would not change you. Who you are requires no belief. In fact, every belief is an obstacle. It does not even require your realisation, since you already are who you are. But without realisation, who you are does not shine through into this world. It remains in the unmanifested which is of course your true home

    Tolle, A New Earth, p189

    And as I was reading this I looked up at my high, large window ledge. On it was my coffee cup, a wedding photo of Christelle and I, and also my clear pencil case, full of a mixture of wax and pencil crayons, and fine tips for colourful writing, and expressing in my private writing.

    I looked at my pencil case.

    Breathed, a slow deep breath

    And realised..

    That I am not my Pencil case.

    It was a bit of revelation.

    I could see my pencil case.

    I am separate from it

    I can watch my pencil case (it wasn’t moving)

    I am seeing it.

    I am looking at it

    It is in the universe

    But I am not my pencil case

    It has contents, a mixture of them

    And I can slowly or quickly choose them in a number of ways.

    The pencils have labels, colours

    Yet they are just what they are

    They may be broken, some underused

    Some pencils left at the bottom, my least favourite colours for writing.

    Peach, Grey, Brown.

    But what do I mean?

    I know I am not my pencil case, surely?

    Yes.

    But who am I, if I am not my pencil case?

    Am I my contents?

    Am I my past?

    Am I my labels?

    Am I my emotions?

    Am I just an object? just a tool?

    Am I what others made me out to be?

    Am I just a container, full of these things?

    Feeling sometimes broken, sometimes raw, sometimes colourful, sometimes grey.

    Feeling sometimes the tools connected to the writer.

    I am more, or maybe I am less

    Maybe all, Maybe I am the universe and I just Am, all at the same time

    Connected and Isolated

    Embracing natures warm bliss, and treading a tightrope of trauma

    Gentle steps, sometimes joy, sometimes anxious

    I am , I just fucking am.

    I am not what I can see, I might be a seer

    Yet I might get stuck, hiding away, trapped inside, like crayons waiting from the zip to be undone, waiting to be creatively safely found again.

    I am not just potentiality

    I am not an identity

    I am not a toy or a gift

    I am not a tribe

    I am, I just am, more than just am

    I am not my pencil case

    I am trying to listen to who I am

    I am feeling who I am

    I am trying to work out how I can be me.

    But I am not my pencil case,

    I just Am.

  • Practicing Safe Sensitivity.

    Google ‘Sensitive’ and what do you find?

    (especially in the images).

    I love both Elaine Arun and Hannah Jane Walkers books on Sensitivity – but – in the main who are their key audiences and examples?

    Hannahs book is wonderful by the way, yet in the main the conversation about sensitivity centres around herself, her sisters and her mother in the first few chapters, about how women nature sensitivity in other women. It is beautiful, their stories and very heartful. Actually I would go as far as reading this book was an awakening spiritual experience for me, self love in a self help book.

    Sensitivity barely features in a search of TED talk titles. (but Introvert does)

    Sensitive and male as a search on You Tube highlights a type of sensitivity and not necessarily of the emotional sort.

    So:

    Whilst it’s said that 15-20% of everyone would be considered sensitive, or highly sensitive. There isn’t much of a conversation about sensitivity and being male. I wouldn’t expect it given the author and her experiences.

    There’s a lack of ‘ways’ in for Men to access this topic.

    So let’s continue to have it.

    What’s it like growing up male and sensitive with a male parent who either dismiss, ignore or reject their own, and thus your sensitivity?

    What’s it like growing up male and sensitive and having a female parent who similarly either dismiss, ignore or reject their own sensitivity, and thus your own?

    What’s it’s like having your own emotions stolen as a boy to feed other peoples emotional needs?

    What glimpses are there that you were a sensitive boy, and what happened when you expressed these? or… what steps did you take to hide them, or pretend that you were otherwise.

    What has been the effect on you by hiding this part of you?

    I laugh now. I got into a ‘fight’ once. It was my last day of primary school , aged 11, and it was one of those glorious warm hot June days where we could play football on the ‘rec’ (recreation ground) instead of the concrete of the enclosed school playground. I won’t name the other person, but they had been a friend for a while, and lived not far from me.

    I was playing ‘in goal’ and this person was deciding to stand on the goal line, I dont remember if he was even playing the match, maybe he wasn’t and was being annoying, I remember not.

    I had heard enough messages about ‘toughening up’ , about standing up for myself. This was my chance, so I thought, to prove myself. T prove to myself that I wasn’t as weak, timid or shy anymore.

    I don’t remember how the incident continued, my feeble attempt to be ‘brave’ probably involved pushing him out of the way, did I raise my fists? I don’t remember, though I remember getting one back. I think I ended primary school with either a black eye or bloody nose, and only the realisation that trying to physically injure anyone felt so weirdly disconnected, my arms/body didn’t work like that, and I felt pretty rubbish about it.

    Trying to prove to myself that I was tough, not weak and not going to let someone else annoy me. Step 1 – ends in embarrassment… oh and the temporary loss of friendship. A year later we spoke again and we’re friends again.

    I guess it’s a glimpse for me. Of how trying to be tough has felt uncomfortable. And also of the damage of hiding sensitivity.

    It was the 1980’s, I get it. There wasnt talk of emotional health and wellbeing in schools at that time, or anywhere else.

    Described as perceptive and contentious by my teachers – a key indication of sensitivity – neither of these things were valued or nurtured.

    So, im just wondering, where does sensitivity play a part in our daily lives – yet we wouldn’t use ‘the S’ word to describe it

    Because as Ted Zeff describes below, the men who recognised and realised their sensitivity could share how it was positive for them in their workplaces, relationships and social lives. (there are other vids on YT on this subject, do give them a watch)

    But he also describes how a more ‘Western Culture’ , UK to a lesser extent and North American more so, there are cultural challenges in admitting being sensitive.

    If the ‘S’ word is a big ‘no-no’ what gets used instead?

    ‘Social Skills’

    ‘Adaptability and flexibility’

    ‘Good with change’

    ‘Receptive to client needs’

    ‘Hard working’

    ‘Team Player’

    Someone who might be good with people, good with animals – might be highly sensitive, as might someone who has deep friendships and is upset if these are rocky. But someone who has friends is valued – even if their sensitivity to emotional needs might not be.

    We might not like the ‘S’ word – but the outward traits of the person, the man with sensitivity is valued…. some of the time.

    Did you notice what I noticed at the beginning of that video above?

    That there’s research that suggests that up until the age of 5 boys are more sensitive and aware than girls, yet by the age of 5 most of these emotions have been diminished in a boy, except for anger, the only emotion a man is socially permitted to express.

    Where does that even leave that boy who is told off for expressing anger? or in a culture (a christian one) where anger is deemed sinful? (and I realise this is not just men) but saying. Where does a boy go to hide so that they can be safely sensitive?

    Did you have a space for this?

    It’s not that as a boy I wasn’t sensitive, I just had to hide it, especially where it wasn’t safe. On other occasions, my sensitivity enabled me to be safe in an emotionally abusive home, as I could tend to the emotional needs of others.

    Like so many things in our emotional make up, and the reality of the trauma many of us have faced, acceptance leads to growth, denial hides protects and is afraid. There’s everything courageous about accepting sensitivity.

    Unsure if you’re sensitive? Do have a read of this

    Do share your experiences below in the comments, id love to hear. If you have a resource on this and want to share it with others do link it below too. If youd like to support me in my writing, you can do so here, Thank you for reading.

  • Sensitivity : An Inconvenient Truth?

    The more I have reflected on Sensitivity, the more I realise how inconvenient it seems to be.

    For a start.

    Admitting being a sensitive person yourself… feels inconvenient.

    There can be ‘easier’ more ‘recognised’ more realisations that encourage greater sympathy than sensitivity.

    Some are more diagnosed, they appear, for an example as a protected characteristic of the Equality Act (2010) – and dont get me wrong, this isn’t characteristic olympics. It’s not the point im making. Maybe this is ‘insensitive’.

    Thats interesting.

    Me trying to ‘make a point’ thats probably not quite as well articulated as it should be I might recognise as ‘insensitive’ . So.. what might be sensitivity?

    Sensitivity might be akin to ‘making an appropriate response’

    Sensitivity might be about realising who might be affected by a situation and responding appropriately.

    Sensitivity, therefore, is totally Inconvenient.

    Sensitivity asks questions, suggests slower actions.

    Sensitivity feels.

    Sensitivity asks – ‘who isn’t being heard?’

    Sensitivity builds relationships, and cooperation.

    Sensitivity values depth and quality.

    Sensitivity is empathy

    Sensitivity..pays attention.. a lot.

    Sensitivity cares.

    It’s Inconvenient in a culture in which outcomes, numbers, ‘success’ and efficiency are default dynamics.

    Sensitive to emotions and lives, not to system protection.

    It’s the youth workers, sensitive to the young people of Rotherham, whose voice was deemed ‘over reacting’ , and years later the report highlighted that the system didn’t listen. Were the Youth workers too sensitive? Easily dismissed? Inconvenient?

    Sensitive people are inconvenient aren’t they.

    Inconvenient, because they dont fit.

    Many of the systems we live in look at the natural responses of the Highly Sensitive Person…. and rebuke them

    Hanna Jane Walker (2023)

    Maybe the System needs to change.

    Because if there were no sensitive people – the system would have imploded by now, already.

    When the system tightens, when it gets harsher. The Sensitive person is going to feel it first.

    The Canary in the Mine.

    Yet, What’s strange is that when a micro system like a school develops healthier emotional responses, prioritising the practice of emotions of health, empathy, listening, cooperation and holding emotional reactions.. it benefits the pupils towards better ‘results’ and creates better community and environment (Lisa Cherry, 2021, Conversations that make a difference with Children and Young People).. its not about ticking a box to say ‘trauma informed’ – but humane.

    Its no wonder that those who have sensitivity, human values in caring profession leave by the droves, when the ‘system doesn’t benefit those of whom it is meant to, and in a way that should do’.

    How inconvenient.

    Yet, Ultimately usually, everyone benefits. (except the non humans, the spreadsheets and newspapers)

    It’s Inconvenient for the farmers to recognise that their soil quality is getting worse, being sensitive to the changes, and having to adapt. (James Rebanks, The English Pastoral)

    It’s Inconvenient to be sensitive to the needs of the planet – and not the continual consumption of it. It’s inconvenient to adhere to warnings about flood plains and deforestation – and not have buildings that get flooded or be prone to landslides.

    And yet.

    Let’s make this personal again.

    Sensitivity is inconvenient yes because it is counter system cultural

    But its also counter ‘Emotional expectation cultural’

    It’s a trait that many try to hide.

    More than that, a gift.

    When the one person stands up against the system, for the benefit of humanity, it’s not that others dont agree with them, it’s that they dont want to be seen to agree with them. To admit being sensitive, caring and humane.

    If you have ever watched the film ‘The Last Bus’ there is a moment ion it when the lead character stands up against a man who is racially bullying an asian woman, he is sensitive to her plight, yet the bully expects the crowded bus to be on his side because there is silence. The opposite is actually the truth. The bully is escorted off with loud cheers, yet the old man was as equally acting alone. Those who bully might expect that silence is for them, when actually it might not be, this might also be the case in the boardroom.

    Inconvenient for ourselves.. back to being personal.

    In addition …

    Not always being heard

    Struggling with boundaries.. and

    Being easily overwhelmed.

    Im not going to go into detail into these things here. But if you identify as sensitive, or recognise that this might be you, but dont want to admit it, then that inconvenience of being sensitive is actually just part of you, part of you being who you are.

    However challenging, it is how you are wired. It can be highly frustrating, highly draining, and to have to manage ourselves in a world that often doesn’t fit. It feels inconvenient even to be wired in this way. Inconvenient to have to be thinking, taking in information , processing, working things , feelings, body language.

    The temptation with something inconvenient, something unsettling, something that feels raw, is to toughen up, deny or pretend it isnt there. It takes someone else courage to believe the voice that speaks from sensitivity, It takes courage to be paying super attention and speak up. it’s inconvenient all around, but more often more humane for everyone.

    Sensitivity ; An Inconvenient Truth?

    References

    Sensitivity by HAnnah Jane Walker (2023)

    The Highly Sensitive Person by Elaine Arun (2001)

    Conversations that make a difference with Children and Young People by Lisa Cherry (2021)

  • Male Sensitivity : Part 1 (Realising my own)

    Toughen up

    You need to stand up for yourself

    Wimp

    You’re being sensitive

    Softy

    Pussyfoot

    And the ultimate..

    Stop being so Gay. 

    All words Ive heard in my life, some at school, some in places that were meant to be ‘home’. 

    What did all of these words and names mean?  What did they do? What did they communicate as to what is valued. 

    Especially for me, a Man, A boy, A teenager. 

    What about the following: 

    ‘You need to have a ‘thick skin’ to work here. Or to be a ____________ nowadays.

    And ‘that’ profession, it seems strange to say this about a profession that on the face of it should care about people, clergy, teaching, nursing, social work.. 

    What is being valued here?  What does this say about our society? 

    Who is this all in favour of? What is being left out? 

    Shall I be honest with you?

    Ive struggled to write this piece.

    Yet, as you know, ive been able to, or found it ‘easy to’ write about other aspects of my self realisation and awareness journey in the last few years. Including Abuse. Ive come back to the subject of sensitivity in the last month or so. Rereading Elaine Aruns book that I read for the first time 3 years ago, rereading it 3 weeks ago was like new pings going off all over the place, new pieces of my personal jigsaw making more sense, more realisation of how my childhood, schooling and subsequent has been affected by not being able to have my sensitivity valued, though not being able to know or communicate this. 

    Its as if I fear that admitting being sensitive is weak. 

    Its as if I then put myself in the ‘snowflake’ ‘woke’ or ‘wooly liberal’ category. 

    Its as if I then be vulnerable. 

    But what if? 

    I am Sensitive. 

    I am Male, and I am Sensitive.

    And it’s been a strength that ive had to hide. But it’s been there, I can tell.

    And I always have been. It was what to need to be to survive. And not just me.

    It wouldn’t have mattered to retort ‘ no im not gay, im just sensitive’ wouldn’t have helped in the playground. Standing up for bullies hasn’t been about punching my way back, but reporting to the right people. (And then I got bullied for being a ‘tell tale’… honestly.. what is the right thing?) 

    As I read the book ‘The Highly sensitive person’ by Elaine Arun and ‘Sensitive’ (2023) by Hannah Jane Walker, who writes from current research into sensitivity, and in conversation with researchers and psychologists and those in economics and business too, and an interview with Elaine Arun herself, my head is full of further questions and realisations, questions that might be for the future, and so this might be an introduction to ‘Sensitivity’ and specially being a Sensitive Man. 

    Would you like to hear more on this? 

    What insights do you have if you are male and think you might be sensitive?

    Has this been something you have struggled to admit? 

    Could you trust it if you discovered it?  Can I? 

    ‘What if the real story of sensitivity is one of profound vulnerability and resilience, care and empathy, Sensitivity is much more every day, much more mythic than we think. Sensitivity is fundamental to who we are, and I think fundamental to where we go next ‘

    Hannah Jane Walker; Sensitive (2023)

    Maybe it’s time to be proud of being sensitive. Maybe it is for me, maybe it is for you. Time be courageous and dig deep into this strength thats been hiding behind masks and expectations.

    What did it feel like to you to listen to your sensitivity, pay attention to that soft voice inside, and care, cooperate and listen, rather than seek to compete, dominate and rule?  Is ‘hardness’ a required mask?

    Male Sensitivity… let’s talk about it. What does this mean to you?

    Has being sensitive been a gift or a challenge for you?

    Are you in a job, a community or relationship which values sensitivity?

    Do share below, and let’s talk about it.

    References;

    The Highly Sensitive Person – Elaine Arun (1999)

    Sensitive – Hannah Jane Walker (2023)

    If you’d like to hear more on this, my recent video shared some of the indicators of sensitivity. Do give it a watch.

  • Healing my (non) Anger.

    Anger is a Sin

    Dont you dare get Angry

    Good people dont get Angry

    We Shouldn’t feel Angry when we do

    A good boy doesn’t get angry.

    Anger will turn someone away

    Anger will mean someone else has to take responsibility for my feelings

    Anger is to be avoided

    I didnt want to be angry like they are.. when they got upset.

    I internalised all of these, and I think other myths about Anger.

    Time to stop believing the myths about Anger.

    Yet I knew about anger…in theory… because like a ‘good’ youth worker I delivered ‘Anger Management’ classes..about 15 years ago.

    I could soothe and listen, but had absolutely no experience of processing my own anger. With the exception of bottling it, and it being released in cynicism, and holding it all in.

    I couldn’t be angry and expect others to have to deal with this. I had to be the one who dealt, responded even, to other peoples anger.

    I didnt know what ‘being angry’ to the point of letting these feelings out.

    Thats why discovering saying the ‘F’ word began a process of helping me to release the metaphorical cork on the bottle.

    I Mis-managed my own anger. Conditioned since childhood.

    Anger gives me power. Anger enables me to take action. Anger now helps me realise that I have something to protect. Anger creates boundaries.

    But its new, and still new for me, and im learning to be healthily angry.

    I used to say ‘I dont get angry’ but what this meant that I suppressed everything.

    Much Anger comes from Unmet needs

    Melody Beattie (Codependent no more)

    I was scared of my own anger, because I didnt know what it would be like.

    Yet, without anger, and rage, there might not be the point beyond it to know what the actual source was and is, and experience the peace beyond. The thing we’re frightened of is often the thing that controls us.

    Silent rage is destructive. If you’re not actively, consciously releasing anger, your holding on to it. And this is not doing you any good

    Edith Eger . (The Gift)

    So.. what did I do when I got angry this week. We’ll firstly I noticed that my despair at a situation only lasted for about 1-2 hours – in the past this may have lasted longer, I may have sunk, frightened.

    But instead I realised that I could be angry about it.

    I swore, a lot.

    I threw a few cushions.

    I drew with large crayons on paper, let the scrawl take what ever shape and told myself that it didnt matter it just needed to ‘come out’

    And then I wrote, words, phrases, to the situation, to myself who had to deal with the situation. About my needs.

    I talk more about my relationship with Anger here in my latest video

    /

    I think I used to try and bypass my anger to try and find a place of calm, yet that calm was often like the proverbial shaken champagne bottle, calm, but raging.

    Im learning to be better at this. Im learning to have a better relationship with my emotions, and sometimes get opportunities to practice…..

    It took me a long while, and it required small practice steps, of even just re-learning to swear.

    Time to bury the myths about anger.

    Time to deal with it, ourselves.

    Time to let it out and not feel judgement about it.

    Notice, let it out, and listen to it.

    Anger is a defence. Burning through it and the fear and grief is revealed underneath. Then its time to forgive ourselves. (Edith Eger)

    By not releasing it were denying that we werent victimised or abused or that we’re human. Making ourselves numb. Pretending to be Ok.

    What’s your relationship with Anger? What do you do to release it, and then process the core needs underneath it?

    Its time to un manage it, time to express it

    Time to make it a healthy part of us.

    Time to be human and feel it

  • Accepting the Positive.

    I wonder if this is a typically British thing.

    Lets face it, its far easier to put our complaints out in the open and enjoy the attention it receives. Playing victim can be an art form.

    The weather. What ‘someone else did’. Blame ‘The Man’. The System.

    A gloomy view of day to day life is notionally the norm. Often at bus stops. Train stations. Whenever there’s a group of people waiting. Or chatting in a cafe. Or at the end of church. Maybe its not a British thing. (Do let me know if you’re not in Britain reading this) Its the easy default culture to notice the bad, and to keep a memory of it.

    If you’ve been reading my work before you will know that I have been processing and trying to understand myself through a lifetime of psychological games, and childhood abuse. This has been undoubtedly challenging and will I know be a constant long term thing. Accepting the ‘bad’ is one thing, a hard thing.

    But it may be as difficult to accept the good.

    It might be ‘just the accepted British way’ to say

    ‘It was nothing’…. when you’ve helped someone as their shopping fell out of the bag in Tescos car park and they said thank you and offered a gift.

    or

    ‘Its just my job to do this’ ….after doing well in a presentation at work

    or

    ‘Everyone else was having a bad day’ – when you’ve just won a competition

    or

    What about not actually believing someone when they tell you that you are loved, special, unique, beautiful or valued?

    What is our reaction to hearing this from someone?

    Is it dismissed as ‘being soft’, or ‘yeah yeah’ or not accepted?

    It can be so difficult to admit that it’s actually difficult to accept being seen, being loved, being appreciated and praised. Why?

    Because.. for some of us, maybe more of us than we’d like to admit, Praise was used to control and manipulate us… a form of breadcrumbs

    Praise with strings.

    Not just at home… church too….

    It may even be that in some churches ‘praising God’ might be a similar transaction.. if I praise ..will this give me something I want..?

    Pride cometh before a Fall.

    Guess who heard this, in church and over and over and over again at home. This was a great reason not to praise or note someones gifts or strengths. What was interesting for me, was that I barely heard praise growing up (except from teachers or church leaders) and praise received was quickly belittled and quashed at home. ‘Dont want him getting big headed‘ ….

    In another way though, every every christian denomination I have been in in the UK has some form of ‘Praising God’ for the good things in life, and ‘blaming the self’ for everything else. Its acceptance avoidance and also a denial of the person to be able to have some part in an action. God neednt have all the glory, or he can also have some of the responsibility for the failing things… or when churches close.. for example.

    When ‘love’ , ‘gifts’ and ‘compliments’ have been weaponised and been tools for manipulation in our childhoods, and they were for me, I can tell how I learned to dismiss the need for them. Stoical survival: dismissing recognition of praise. I can recall those moments where I couldn’t accept a compliment for winning a race, or a piece of work.

    It’s fascinating also though that in ‘Courage to be Disliked’, Kishimi and Koga write about how gratitude is different to praise. Stating

    When we praise or rebuke others, the only difference is the carrot or the stick, yet the background is manipulation..

    If receiving praise is what someone is after, then it is only right that they adapt to that other persons yardstick.. and put the brakes on the persons own freedom..

    Kishimi, Koga, The Courage to be Disliked.

    This is interesting in relation to praise and compliments, and accepting the good, praise might be unhealthy, but as children its something that (like punishments too) controlled us, and affected us and our acceptance of compliments, gratitude and affection ever since.

    Because of its source.. it couldn’t be trusted. It wasnt safe.

    But, that was then, this is the now. Isn’t it? (yes this takes a long time to accept too)

    In what way has that conditioning still got a hold on us?

    Might it be time to be a friend to yourself, to myself, and let go

    The refusal to accept what’s a positive about yourself is a burden. Why go on carrying it?

    Why deny ourselves the acceptance and appreciation of the beauty of the lotus (or the rose) and only focus on the mud?

    Padraig O’Morain

    Practically in his book ‘Acceptance’ Padraig O’Morian writes about how to listen, but then respond the the self-criticism voice inside of us.. the one that can constantly self sabotage and attack, suggesting that when the voice tries to launch into full scale attack.. ‘switch your attention from it and towards your breathing or something else, look out of the window, or focus on the movement of your feet, ‘gradually let the self attacking deflate of its own accord’ .

    Because….Its perfectly healthy to accept ourselves and the good things, creative, loving, kind, achieving, wise things about ourselves. It maybe just takes a while to realise this. But it is healthy. It is. .

    Its been a survival mechanism for those of us who have been on the receiving end of psychological (or spiritual) games in which acceptance of our good self has been weaponised. We masked not needing it, survived without it. What might happen if there were cracks and love came in?

    It isn’t idealistic or dreamy to see the positive in a situation, even if you can see it long before someone else can, but how might I do this for the situations I am in, and not just for other people. We dont need to focus on the negative.

    Acceptance of who we are , how we think, where we get energy, how we contribute in teams, in relationships is key. My recent video was on accepting my introversion, but there’s gifts in the extroverts too (yes really ;-)

    (Here’s the video if you’d like to watch)

    What might our day to day lives be like if we can learn to accept, learn to see, and learn to talk the good in ourselves, in others and also in the world around us? Maybe it takes courage to accept the good. Courage to love and receive love. Courage to accept love and positivity.

  • Awakening

    For everything under the sun, there is a time

    This is the season of your awakened harvesting

    When pain takes you to 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 the bitter tree was planted.

    You are coming to see how your looking often darkened

    When you should have felt safe enough to fall toward love

    How deep down your eyes were always owned by something.

    That facd 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 scrape 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 you heart has swept the way to your true self.

    As your tears fall over that wounded place

    May they wash away your 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, by John O Donohue)