James Ballantyne

Category: Journey

  • A blog on 957,547 words.

    I just did a weird thing.

    I just added up all the total number of words I have written in blog form, and published since I started writing blogs in 2012.

    No I didn’t do that thing. I didn’t open up every one of those 800+ blogs since 2012 and count all the words, who do you think I am? I’m not that weird, truly I’m not.

    I just added up the totals that WordPress records.

    Since 2012, there have been 957,547 words.

    Well, actually, now thats 957,547 + 97 words, +1 for ‘words’ and + 3 for ‘words’ and and, and now another 7 + more for these too. (4)

    957,547+1+3+7+4= 957,562.

    I was hoping that when I started out this voyage of numerical discovery it would be a really significant number. Like a million. But it isn’t. And trust me, you probably dont want me rambling for another 957,562+37 =957,599 – 1000000=42401 words.

    Its just a number 957,599 or it was 957,547 when I started this.

    Thats a lot of words though isn’t it.

    And thats not including the blogs that were too passive aggressive to ever publish (especially over on the youth work one) , or the ones I felt were way too vulnerable here, or actually ones I didn’t feel comfortable with, they stay in the drafts. So it may well be a million.

    It’s not quite a million words. 11 years. Around 90,000 words per year.

    It’s weird when I think about it.

    Especially as I’m comparing it to other ‘art’ forms, this writing thing.

    In the same time as writing these blogs, I have also helped to write a book, and one Youth work article, I also completed a Masters study and recently a level 2 in Counselling skills. I have done A LOT of writing.

    I definitely didn’t start out when I wrote my first blog, on blogspot on the subject of cycling and spirituality, that I would end up here. 11 years later. I had no idea. It just sort of happened that way.

    I’d like to say that writing is enjoyable. Actually, it is.

    What I’ve also found is that writing helps me get things out, sometimes there’s a build up of information, thoughts and questions or ideas in my head and so it has helped me to write them out. Thats why there’s quite a few drafts, and quite a few that won’t see the light of day, my head might not always be the healthiest of places. Sometimes for me there’s a build up, like the cork in the bottle and I have to just start writing.

    Believe it or not, there have been other times when I hadn’t written for weeks or months. Yes, actually that is the case. I slowed down big time when my personal life, and also my professional life has shifted somewhat.

    The other thing I’ve noticed is that my writing has often followed my reading. In the same 11 years, I think I have read, at least 500 books. For most of the first 8 years these were all Youthwork, Theology, Community practice or Sociology related.. or Theodrama.. who could forget the Theodrama years… the books would inspire, as would the conversations I would have each day, with youth workers, lecturers, colleagues.

    But now the books I have read have changed, I think I have only read 3 youthwork or theology books in the last 3 years, most of the rest are in the menu above, as well as Fiction. Yes, actually reading fiction too. Including the whole of Harry Potter, and almost all of Paulo Coelho books.

    Life Spills. That sometimes describes my writing now, a lot more. Im thinking, or doing something, or learning about it, and when I write its like the spillage of those things, spewed from my fingers out wards onto the screen. Words. Spilling.

    I wish I could say that I’ts from the soul, or heart.

    Sometimes it is. I would love it to be more soulful at times.

    But I know that sometimes I’m writing when I’m annoyed, and im in a churn.. and that churn spills over.

    Sometimes I discovered something I want to share it.

    Sometimes I discover something, as I’m writing it.

    When. I. Realise. That. These. words. Are. For. Me.

    And I have to stop.

    Slow Down.

    Listen to myself.

    Because these weren’t words for others, they were for me.

    And some of those 957,000+ were for me.

    Like the one I wrote about Self-Care tips for youth workers for Lent. Every years since that one I realise quite how hypocritical that one was. Look here’s me with 40 ideas for you.. when I’m in utterly no place to do any of them, with self confidence, self respect at rock bottom and having no self awareness at all. All those could have been for me, and there were others too.

    I now feel like I’m doing a Q&A about my blogging when actually I’m making up my own questions. Thats just the thing, who does a blogging Q and A anyway? Should I do it when I have 1,000,000 words, or when ive bored 1,000 people? Its not like I have a subscriber count like on you tube.

    Another question that I am never asked is about what makes up a good blog.

    The answer is that I really dont know. What I am finding is that if a good blog is one that is based on how many people click the ‘like’ button at the bottom of this one, then I get more ‘likes’ when I have been personal, vulnerable, and shared about life trauma, healing, vulnerability and recovery, than I did with youthwork, theology or community work.

    What do I do it for?

    Sometimes for you, the invisible you, the person who reads this. You are a WordPress reader, a Facebook friend, or a friend of a friend, or someone else that googled it. Talking of google, thats one way of getting extra reads and views. Its that title thing again. My most viewed in one day blog had a great 3 days and none since, my most viewed in all time asks the question ‘What role do young people play in your church’ – because all over the world, thats a pressing question in many churches, and its all over the world, I have views from over 200 countries.

    Sometimes these are for me too, as I said above.

    I was watching a you tube video earlier on photography. In it the guy said about how it takes 10,000 hours to finely tune a hobby or craft, like.. photography or something else, gardening or dance or fishing. So that got me thinking about not only how many hours id spent behind a camera (probably around 200-300) but then about writing. How many hours have I spent blogging, and what is the creative output of that in relation to the work that goes into it. I would be lying if I said that I didnt check the likes, comments or views, but what definitely surpasses all of these is when someone lets me know that I have helped them, encouraged them or enabled them to see something, or do something differently, in their professional or personal life, or both.

    So, for almost 1000 actual blogs, and almost 1,000,000 words – how do even know if this is something I am ‘good’ at. Its not like there’s a gallery of them, or I can recount the time i made something significant within it.

    Its not the numbers after all.

    And a good blog isn’t a perfect one. Sometimes its a real one. Maybe its also one where im being more human, than being preachy. Maybe its not one that is too hard to read, I get it, honestly I do. My pain might not make good reading, unless you know, or you want to know. I cant tell you how to write, because I often dont really think about what im writing most of the time, and thats why I cant think of a good way of ending this weirdly self-referential reflective piece, as it could go on and on and on.

    So what advice would I give someone starting out in blog writing.

    Only do it if you love writing. Like anything. Love it or stop it.

    Thats all I can say.

    oh…

    and if you got to the end, Thank you.

    You made it to 958861 words.

  • Changing Mindset

    Changing Mindset

    Ive been taking ‘photos’ for over three years. A Camera has accompanied most of my walks, and especially during the lockdown walks.

    I see nice things, then think, ill take a photo of it. Or..

    Ill go birdwatching and take photos of birds, or actually any nature, foxes, squirrels, rats, mice, anything natural to be honest.

    This year, as you may know, as ive mentioned it a few times, ive started ‘learning’ photography.

    Actually learning it.

    What do all those letters mean on my camera?

    What makes a good composition?

    What about light?

    And what makes a good photograph? If there is such a thing….

    But I notice something.

    I realised today, when I was across at Redcar Blast furnace and beach, a place id not been to this year yet, but have been a number of times. A place with a combination of natural and man made beauty

    It a place where there’s sea birds, benches, beach, and fishermen, but none today.

    But as I looked at the photos I took, I realised something. The habits of old are the default. So ive got hundreds of images of birds on the rocks. Though I did also try to get some of maybe more photos where I thought about foreground, the story of the photo, or something of interest. Like the house above, or this one of the boats, banked up on the beach.

    I walk around an area and sometimes ‘old habits’ are hard to shake.

    But I also realise that im in a place where its conducive to the old habits. There’s stacks of nature and water.

    Sometimes testing out new habits needs a new place.

    When I found myself noticing that I was going back into ‘old photography habits’, I would stop and have a moment, a rethink, breathe, and know that nothing was wasted, and I would notice myself. On some occasions where I could I would take my focus somewhere else.

    I was so busy looking outwards, for the scene, for the bird, through camera or binoculars, that I would forget the more important thing.

    Myself.

    If I can find a suitable spot, a bench or path, ill set up the camera so it can take a shot of me. If nothing else it means that I am part of my own story of my day. I am important.

    Its as if the slow process of setting up camera, viewfinder, focus, timer etc and then getting into position is a mindset shift.

    And the results are varied. But it doesn’t matter to me.

    This interruption changes my focus, as even in doing this I am practicing new skills, a different focus. Im putting myself in the frame.

    Unlearning the old takes time. Unlearning the old, in the same environment of the old is incredibly hard, if not impossible.

    Changing mindset, starts from inside.

    For me, a change in mindset is to focus on my self. It may not be this for you. It could be to focus on others, or focus on the spiritual or the environmental.

    But it’s a change in mindset all the same. Change the focus of my attention, from external to internal.

    Something I noticed today.

    I suppose, thinking about it, when I shared this the other day, I was given the opportunity to then live and practice it a bit.

  • Why might ‘Self-Love’ be difficult for Men?

    Can I speak for all Men? Probably not, so If you are a man and reading this then forgive me that I might be saying something that doesn’t apply to you. If you’re not reading this, then chances are you might not want to face the subject of ‘Self -Care’ , or that you dont want to read this particular blog, but ill be confident of one thing. One, or more of theses reasons will apply to you, cause you to wince in recognition, or cause a reaction, that may be defensive. Maybe you are a partner, sister or brother of a particular Man, and you can identify some of these. If you are, then be gentle with him. Facing some of these things is pretty terrifying for the first time, be brave to and hold him gently.

    Before I share further. Some of these apply to Women, fully as much as Men. Absolutely. But as a Man im going to just identify some of the ‘Man Issues’ about this.

    1. Because it sounds weak. We’d fix a broken car, and we’d store our car in the garage to look after it, maybe even vacuum and wash it each week/month/year, and take it for a service. Loving something that’s an object, a purchase, a status even seems perfectly acceptable. Self-love feels weak as often we’re not so proud of our bodies, our minds, our previous actions, our attitudes. If it wasn’t ‘Self-love’ and instead it was ‘Power-clean’ ….
    2. Because it means accepting vulnerability. Tending to our needs and self might have to mean realising that we need something, that something in us is in need of attention, there’s a weakness.
    3. Because it might mean accepting defeat. I believed I would be able to survive anything and deal with anything. Stoical survival, keeping going, trapped in a landscape of coercive control, institutional expectation, thinking there was no option, no way out, no alternative, no help, no one else…. at what cost? I wasn’t winning anyway. Self love might mean realising that ‘trying your best’ is enough, and exhaustion and being emotionally drained really isn’t what you are here on earth for. If you want to understand more about trying your best, look it up in the ‘ 4 Agreements’ by Don Miguel Ruiz.
    4. Because it might mean accepting that the person who indentifies it…might be right. Someone else can see what we are going through, someone else in our lives might be telling us to slow down, take a break, stop, do less… Someone else might also be representative of a voice we might not want to listen to. We might have to admit that that voice of our partner, friend or family member might be right. That might take huge courage if we have prided our selves with self sustainability, self dependency, self strength.
    5. Because we spend more time responding to the needs of others, and ignoring our own. Since childhood, I was safe when I tended other peoples needs. When I didnt I was accused of being selfish. These were my deep down reasons. It meant pacifying the monsters. But on other occasions, there were the needs of others in a regular way, such as childrens activities, concerns and issues, colleagues, and with any of us who work in caring roles.. all the people we work with, young people, vulnerable adults, and our colleagues who do so. When we are good at listening to others emotions and needs, we become brilliant listeners, supporters and take on huge amounts of responsibility. … I could also hide my own… for the sake of others… Sometimes id catch myself say ‘Oh Im Ok’ if someone asked. But also, I would avoid being around people who might ask this.
    6. Because it might mean trying to act from our emotions, and articulate them. How many times do I start conversations with ‘I think’ verses ‘I feel’ .. thinking is easy, thinking is about brains, power and intelligence, about success and work.. I think therefore I am…. but actually.. I feel and maybe I become more complete. Starting with ‘I feel’ can take a huge shift.. and this gets me thinking…. sorry,… this gets me noticing and feeling… what words do we have to articulate feelings, that as Men we can use. Buried deep inside us might be the little boy that cried and was told off. The boy who was made to feel embarrassed or ashamed, or The boy who was rewarded for not showing emotion.

    Feeling emotions isn’t as scary as you might think it is. It takes bravery and courage though. Feelings are more than just anger. Self-love might require us to understand our emotions and the needs behind them.

    I feel angry when………. and I know I need………..

    I feel shame when ……….. and as a result I need…..

    I feel tired when…….. and I need……….

    I feel drained when….. and I need ……..

    I feel confused when…….. and I need ………

    I feel misunderstood when ……….. and I need……….

    I feel ……………….. and I need to love myself by doing …………………

    There are other emotions and operating from them is like a brand new language, and our language can help us describe the emotions. It is new.

    7. Because we fear what it life might be like operating from emotions … This new language for emotions (Emotional Intelligence by David Coleman might be a good resource to start with) , creates a new world for us. Life is different, for me, its full of colour, as opposed to stony grey. There is nothing to fear about what it inside of us and part of us.

    8. Because it’ll mean I have to take myself seriously as a whole being.. and im not used to that.. Im used to being part of the machine of work, part of the ‘rat-race’ , doing, providing, success, achieving. My work, as a youth worker, became as much an identity, a safe place, for me, I could be lost in thought, lost in the next challenge, constantly busy, then adding even more to that, like study, or hobbies, or even, writing… Yet huge parts of me were left undiscovered, hidden, and more often that not I was operating in my own shadows. Self-love, means to love and accept ourselves as the humans we are, frailties, complexities, emotions and all. I am enough, and you are too.

    9. Because it hasn’t been safe for us to share or be emotional, when we’ve experiences with our parents, partners or others. (unless frustration at football, or hiding in a dark cinema to cry)

    10. Because we believe we can wait. We can wait until we retire, we can wait until tomorrow, we can wait until its too bad, we can wait until its desperate, we can wait… look there’s something else to focus on instead… we can wait.

    11. Because it sounds, and feels feminine. Getting in touch with ‘our feminine side’ is often roundly criticised and pilloried in the media, many of the books and resources on self love and awareness are targeted for women or written by them. Many, not all. It’ll mean losing the macho, and attending to the malleable.

    12. Because we’re too busy. And business is an addiction. Life being fast keep everything at bay, including our needs and our selves. Even the temptation to be fast runs through everything that could be slow. Bird watching leads to tech competitiveness or getting the perfect shot… walking can end up being an olympic sport… or a hobby to reach the highest, m furthest, newest climb… Slow hobbies in the midst of fast lives can easily become another space for speed, performance and achievement.. and what’s lost… that moment for ourselves again.

    13. Because in the drive for perfection – we turned ourselves critical ..on ourselves. Oh how I love being super critical, asking questions, all in the name of reflection…. but look deeper and I know this is a safe place for me. Look deeper still and I can see how being critical of others stems from being critical of myself, beating myself up to try and be something, someone, better, more than I was yesterday. Try caring for yourself and see what that critical inner voice tries to do.. Loving ourselves means letting a different voice lead the way..and critic voice rarely goes away without a fight…

    I write these and recognise myself in most if not all of them, to some degree at different points in my life. Unlearning the old habits of self – neglect is an ongoing battle. As I look at the list above, I know there are gaps, this isn’t about perfection…I feel this is something important to talk about and share, I also wonder whether there might be good habits for self-love and care for us men that would be good to share too.. what do you do to remember to love yourself? do put these below

    Thank you

    If you want to or need to explore these further, do find a trusted friend, a therapist or someone who can help you to validate your needs and feelings and give you a brave safe space to.

    There are more resources in the menu above and also links to various mens mental health and abuse organisations too.

  • Overthinking: A Tale of Three Walks

    Overthinking: A Tale of Three Walks

    The best way for me to describe this is to tell you a story.

    Last Sunday morning I had fun with my camera.

    But. I had to make a choice to do this.

    Because, the previous Thursday I went out, hoping to have fun, a relaxing walk, mixing some bird watching and photography. But for some reason it wasn’t fun. I had got to a point of digesting a few days worth of new knowledge about photography skills and practice and then went out armed with this knowledge.

    On a grey uninspiring day. I also went to go nature walking.

    There wasn’t much nature, and there wasn’t much of interest. It was a bit bleak.

    Here’s a few examples from the day. Grey light mostly.

    In short, I got back and felt as though I was trying to do too much.

    Rushing. And over thinking.

    Was I enjoying the walk..? No.

    Was I chasing a bird or moment of nature? Yes

    Was I trying to use my camera and look at scenes , sometimes..

    Was I trying to practice a new skill, walk and find places, or see nature?

    Too much going on. Over thinking.

    Anyway. A few moments of fun in the sunset. Nothing is wasted, absolutely.

    But I got back and thought id wasted a day, frustrated.

    But on Sunday things were different.

    I went to a place I had only been once before, HedleyHope Fell, just outside Tow Law, last time I was there it was wet and cold and looked like this:

    Though I also realise that this photo doesn’t give any indication of how wet it was that day. Its just a tree. But trust me it was wet here in November.

    On Sunday I went, the sun was hazy and out, and I decided that I would solely use the space to walk and try taking interesting photos, try some different angles and settings and just have some fun. I also thought I would take seriously the suggestion that I would tell a story, and the simple story of my photos was that it was me going for a walk.

    So, in 8 photos, here’s me going for a walk at HedleyHope Fell.

    Im not going to write this 4 days later and make out that I was gliding around the setting, in a beautiful flow of human with camera making beautiful art.. but I can say that I was having fun.

    I was lost in the moment, yet present in the moment. Observing landscapes, light and scenes in front of me, trying to look, feel and sense the place.

    Being present.

    Enjoying myself.

    And, I could tell what happened to take me out of this.

    A text message , just as I was about to climb up the hill to the car.

    A message that took me away from the place, the fun and the enjoyment.

    I should have turned off my phone, but I dont do that for emergency sake, and text messages are so rare…so, I

    was into thinking again. Panic even.

    In that moment I lost presence.

    Even breathing and trying to ‘slow down’ I had gone. Only my body remained in the fell, my mind was elsewhere, panic anxiety or whatever it was.

    I did have plans to go to a different nature reserve after this one, but instead I faced the challenge, knowing that avoiding it would only make me worry more. Though I had resolved that on my drive back home that the worst case scenario was unlikely. And, it was unlikely. It was and is something I can deal with.

    So its all ok.

    So in a way I am proud of myself for how I responded and reacted calmly to a situation..eventually.

    But what im also aware of is how easy it is for the fun and enjoyment I was having to burst like a bubble.

    My flow went, my mind raced, panic, but then gradually logic and calmness did return.

    I did go out again later, and I did enjoy an afternoon of sunshine, but what I did on this occasion at the nature reserve, was focus on recovering calmly from the minor stress, walking, breathing and doing the nature thing. Doing one thing at a time. So just outside Darlington at the Burdon Community Woodland, I got these photos.

    Maybe not the best photos. But that wasn’t the point.

    But it was important for me notice that I had to focus on one thing.

    Walking and being in nature is good for me for slowing down, for appreciating connections with the earth. It was what I needed to restore myself. Sitting and waiting for an owl, or the movement of birds slows me down. It was one thing to focus on. It wasn’t the time for me to learn a new skill, a new toy. I needed something different for myself, than I needed in the morning.

    Fun in the morning, Slow speed in the afternoon. Nature in attendance.

    So, that’s my slightly unwieldy story about overthinking. Im kind of over thinking whether I should even share it, because its probably not that interesting, or enlightening, just me going out for walks and realising when I’ve been present in them or not, and I would imagine that’s just like any one of us.

  • Learning the Choice to be Happy

    Learning the Choice to be Happy

    Tell me… what are 5 things that caused you to feel happy today?

    5 things?

    You’re joking aren’t you. 5 actual things. 5 moments where I wasn’t stressed, tired, weary, feeling like im in survival mode, drained, exhausted, pressured, stressed, thinking, over thinking, beyond overthinking to the point of being somewhere else….

    Happy. Really?

    5 things?

    Yes.

    5 things.

    Can be as utterly small as you like, can be as tiny or insignificant. it doest matter, all that matters was in that moment it caused you to feel happy.

    Yes, even that bumble bee that flew past you, the rainbow appearing behind the clouds, the way your dog looked at you, it just made you happy. For a split second.

    5 things.

    I didnt realise it was possible either.

    I didnt realise Happy was actually something.

    Duty – yes.

    Obedience – Yes

    Doing the right thing – Yes

    Surviving – Yes

    But Happy? Really?

    Happy.. oh no, that’s not for me.

    And you know what… when I didnt realise happiness was for me, I couldn’t give the opportunity for happiness for other people – without being critical, without feeling jealous, without being able to enjoy it, for others. I say these things about me, because I also wonder whether this might be more than just me too.

    Let me ask you a different question.

    What about this… What if I told you that happiness was a choice?

    A choice you can make now?

    What if you could have the power to choose to be happy?

    What if this was a powerful choice, yes a choice, that you could make?

    Because, being miserable, playing the victim and projecting blame on others is equally a choice too. But lets focus on Happy.

    When asked on 31st January each year something that makes us happy, it might well be the relief that its the end of January.

    But at the start of January, dont we say ‘Happy new year’ – Happy..may this year be full of happiness for you. It doesn’t take long for Happy new year to turn into the drudge of January. Happy seems to have disappeared from view. A long time ago.

    But 30th January, 4th February and every day in July can be happy too… cant it?

    What would it take? Madness? Courage? Determination?

    What might we notice when we make this choice?

    One thing I noticed, is that when I tried to make an active choice to be happy….

    I got a lot of opportunities to practice this.

    For instance, the very day I bought this book

    Which was in a bookstore, in San Diego Airport on 4th January, as I left my soul mate Christelle and I headed back to the UK.. in a specially curated Happy section for the new year

    It was also the very moment that as I paid for the book and left the bookstore, that I realised that my already cancelled once, now delayed flight was delayed even further. Literally on the board as I left the bookstore. So, all the feelings about leaving Christelle, and now delays.

    Immediate practice to choose my response.

    This delayed flight, led to another cancelled flight, led to overnight in Seattle, another day of travelling, and eventually back to the UK and my flat quite a few hours later. Circumstances giving me choices.

    What did the longer journey give me the opportunity to do – practice happiness…and to read about it. The universe is like that, gives us gifts in which to practice.

    There’s many things I began to notice after the day I decided to intentionally focus on my own happiness. Another is that it is very easy to forget. Hence why its taken 31 days to write this.

    Yup, the road of good intentions is littered with distractions, as well as challenging situations.

    Ive needed reminders. So..

    A few days per week so far this year, because I haven’t remembered every day, and I did buy myself a note book, that I haven’t filled in yet either… Ive asked Christelle the 5 happy things question, and she’s asked me it back.

    It’s almost like retraining my own mind, soul and spirit to notice the happy moments, the happy moments occurring in the now and everyday.

    I can hear the resistance. But what if I surrendered to this? If happiness is not now..when might it be…really?

    I was one who was a critic of those who said that being happy was possible or real or a purpose in life, I get it.

    But what spills out of us when we’re not happy? Who is this good for? Just our ego and anything or anyone else?

    What if… this:

    I believe the very purpose of our life is to seek happiness. That is clear. Whether one believes in religion or not, whether one believes in this religion or that religion, we are all seeking something better in life. So I think, the very moment of our life is towards happiness…..

    Dalai Lama, 1999

    So… about those 5 things..? (why not write them in the comments below)

    Give it a go. Seek Happiness. Open up yourself to its possibility

    Happiness, deep inner happiness is possible.

    Its closer than we think, actually its changing how we think.

    Happy New February.

    Happy you.

    Happy me too.

    References

    The Art of Happiness – Dalai Lama and H Cutler 1999

    The Courage to be Happy – Kishimi, Koga 2016

    The Power of Now – Eckhart Tolle – 1999

  • Could my Soul have an Ancestory?

    I know my Name.

    I know where my name comes from.

    Actually finding out a little more of my family history in the last 4 years has helped me to join the dots, reconnect and give me a sense of something.

    It stared with googling my name.

    I’m now on a bit of a treasure hunt. To find evidence of past Ballantynes, and also artefacts of both RM Ballantyne and the published works of James Ballantyne (based in Edinburgh from the 1700’s).

    Some of this I want to know about, some will be a treasure and surprise when I find it.

    I have a physical ancestry. A story.

    But – what if my soul has an ancestors too?

    My body and mind aren’t going to last forever, but my soul might?

    And if so – might it have been somewhere else before?

    and further still …. might the soul I have now, have been someone else’s one time before and was there a process for it to choose my body, my life and my experiences…

    and if so…for what purpose?

    Have you ever thought this?

    I don’t think I mean reincarnation, but maybe soul ancestry, what’s the history of my soul, and curiously was it reluctant, happy or determined to exist in my experience now, for the time I am hosting it?

    Was my Soul happy before and why my experiences?

    and might there be a point when my embodied soul considers itself complete? or will it accumulate experiences, feelings and character for all eternity – if that’s even what it is doing?

    Or will it become something different, like non human. Animal even? Is that what my soul might become next? Was it non human before? might this explain my affinity with nature – but then might this explain all of our affinity with the natural world?

    Then, thinking Shakespeare… If all the world is a stage… what’s the role of the soul? Might Jung be right to consider the God archetype part of our humanity to exist – and this might be the soul- but what stages, performance, directions, scenes has my soul played before? Or has it been the same one, and its just the actor, the body that’s changed.

    And, when there’s different performances of the soul – what happens in the gap? The Soul interval? From one person to another – and in those moments where might the soul rest, or wait, or choose?

    Then again… Would I want to know? Would I want to know the full list of other people, objects, animals, trees even – that it has inhabited since it was created.. and when was that – what would I do with that list , my soul ancestry? Would it help me to explain things now? Like my genetic make up, from 10 generations of Ballantyne for example.

    Continuing that thought. When was my soul created? Or was it always, well just always there. When did it come from?

    Isn’t that it all along. Is the question not about how the world was created, but how the souls did?

    Might this be God, divine or source all along? A lake of souls from which emanated souls like rivers into the flow of human existence?

    Is my soul in my today, in January 2023, right now for a purpose?

    And if so…what is it?

    So so many questions, maybe the start of this was to recognise having a soul in the first place, as well as wanting to have some understanding of my familial past.

    Like discovering Ballantynes, maybe my souls journey will take me on a similar treasure hunt.

  • Don’t be that human….

    Isn’t it interesting when the universe gives you learning parallels?

    What I mean is, those moments when you see something in one specific time, and it relates to something else.

    Its as if the universe has something for me.

    Either that or the algorithms of the internet really are mind and emotion readers. Oh dear.

    Anyway.

    If you read my recent piece you will know that a skill that I have been learning in the beginning of 2023 has been photography.

    I have managed to start a small catalogue of stock photography here

    James Ballantyne Stock Photos

    They reject quite a few, so I’m just pleased to have over 20 on there, and its honing what I take photos of. I know I’m not going to be a millionaire through photography but its fun, well, most of the time it is.

    To aid me in my learning in this month ive started watching a number of photography you tube channels. Honestly the free learning here is amazing. Now I know I feel a beginner at this, there’s so many helpful guidance out there.

    One of the things I was beginning to notice was though was that most of the nature and landscape photographers had what looked like massive expensive cameras, and that they showed only the best photos on their videos. Some amazing ones though.

    And I was just starting to feel a bit frustrated that I would not be able to take photos like them, without the right equipment.

    Then I watched this video by James Popsys titled…

    ‘Dont be that photographer’

    And I wondered what he was going to get at. He videos himself heading up to a bleak part of snowdonia and tried for 3 days to get photos of sunrises and sunsets over the mountains. His 2 days of failing included not having audio on for the video itself and weather that prevented even sight of the mountains themselves.

    But what he said was interesting.

    He said that as a photographer, the one comment that he got most ways from people who either complained about their lack of expensive cameras or equipment, or were condescending of his.

    To which he replied by saying, ‘Dont be that photographer’

    He said that the most important aspects of being a photographer , especially outdoors, landscape and nature and scenes, generally, are present already in a relatively cheap (less than £250) camera, and the rest is what is already present in the scene and in the eye of the photographer, as well as knowing their kit and craft.

    He was saying, don’t be that photographer who is blaming equipment, the weather, conditions for their lack of good photography. Because all the components are there, but it takes work and effort, its a craft, a skill to learn, hone and develop.. its art.

    So im thinking… yes he is talking to me, as a learning photographer.

    But he’s also talking to me as a human too.

    James, Dont be ‘that’ human – that blames someone else – when I could do something about it.

    Dont be ‘that’ human – that forgets that the difficult and suffering are part of life

    Dont be ‘that’ human that succumbs to getting frustrated when something doesnt happen easily, learning is a challenge..

    Dont be ‘that’ human – that is gets impatient with comparing myself with others – learn to develop myself as I am.

    Dont be ‘that’ human – that forgets that what I need to know is closer that I think, it is within

    Dont be that human – that stops noticing the now, the quiet, the breath

    Dont be ‘that’ human – that doesn’t see the beauty of what’s already in the universe, like light and dark, like texture, colour and change.

    Dont be that human that is harsh on himself, self critical on the cloudy days when ‘nothing’ seems to happen – like today when actually, the drive included rainbows and the walk included kingfishers, but nothing on camera, just still moments of universe blessings.

    James…. dont be ‘that’ human….

    What about you… ?

    So im learning photography. Maybe its giving me an opportunity to learn a lot more too.

    Ill end this piece with a photo from when I was trying to put some learning into practice last weekend, this was me trying to play with light, perspective and settings on Seaton Carew Common beach. Sometimes its only sticks and random pieces of wood that make photos a bit more interesting.

  • ‘Auto, Bird and Landscape’

    ‘Auto, Bird and Landscape’

    I was out walking yesterday, going to Seal Sands, RSPB Salthome and and also on my way back Cowen Bewley Woodland Park. Over the last few weeks I have been learning a little about photography, I was encouraged by a colleague about my photos, which he saw on my camera, I bought a short book on photography and have watched a few videos on you tube. So yes, even though ive been taking photos using relatively decent camera for over 3 years, for fun. I went on my latest walk armed with slightly more knowledge about taking photos, as well as a little more knowledge about some of the technicalities.

    In a way in regard to taking photos, I was barely ‘doing the technical’ basics, just using a camera to capture what I had seen, where I had been or what I liked.

    And, even without any knowledge of the technicalities, I still took some good shots.

    But even on my 2nd camera, I hadn’t done any homework on how to use it, I just used the automatic settings, which in the main were, Auto, Bird (watching) and Landscape.

    Tell you the truth.

    I was scared of the buttons. I was scared of pressing something and breaking it (childhood voices in my head again), scared too of ‘getting obsessed by something once id opened it (another voice) . And so, though not unlike the MacBook I’m typing this on, I had a fairly expensive (*though not in camera terms) camera, and wasn’t using in its real capacity.

    Without completely remembering these were probably on Auto, Bird and Landscape settings.

    Sometimes I even used the food or Moon settings too. But all the automatic settings on the camera. And they’re not bad.

    Every now and then a birdwatching person would ask me about my camera, and then tell me that I should use the Manual setting. To which I responded with, Oh I’m just new to this, or ‘oh yes’ ill give it a go. Feeling slightly sheepish or inadequate, and to be honest, feeling inadequate wasn’t really an incentive to change.

    I was scared. I was feeling inadequate. I was dismissing my need to change. I didnt have any access to what I would need to help me learn.

    What I noticed today was the parallels between my photography experience, and my life experiences.

    Being scared, feeling inadequate, dismissing my need to change and not having access to what I needed so that I could change, were at least four reasons why when I was deeply struggling for a very long time, I was on Automatic.

    I was on Automatic settings in regard to my emotions, in regard to my responses and triggers. Automatic.

    I had no knowledge of myself, and no value of myself, just like my knowledge of the camera was at a surface level. The toughest layers to crack of my onion were the outer ones.

    I was scared of what I might have to deal with, and what I had been dealt with, scared of the monsters that had done them.

    Feeling hollow, inadequate, shame about what I now needed to ask for help with, and much more besides that has been revealed in the long road of the last few years.

    Pretending and Hiding. Like an Technically brilliant camera, that deserves to be treated more than just in Bird, Auto and Landscape. I mean some buttons on it deserve even to be tried. Just to see what happens.

    So what changed?

    Well, regular readers of my blogs here will have probably read already, vulnerability, rock bottom, a breakdown, love and support , safety and then access to self learning , that’s what my path has taken.

    In regard to photography? Being encouraged and being seen, accepting the guidance of someone who shared their experience and time, and me giving this interest of mine a bit more time and attention, like buying a book on it, and watching some you tube videos on it.

    Im learning. From Auto, bird and Landscape, to now working out what ISO, Shutter speed, light meter and aperture all is, and also thinking more about light, perspective and colours, have all been what ive started, just started to play with and experiment with.

    Because my camera isn’t going to break if I play with the buttons, I just get some weird looking very bright or dark shots like these…

    And, nothing is wasted by experimenting. Actually in real time these shots help me make more adjustments. Today I tried lying down against the edge of a frozen lake, and to get close to the gulls and ducks, spending 30 mins lying on a frozen platform was fun, and being at eye level with the subjects made for better shots. Using a few different settings I got these ones.

    These were the shots I took today.

    Maybe getting good photos takes more vulnerability, to be open to learning, and sacrifice. The deep stuff doesn’t get revealed otherwise. The results might just be worth it too. Maybe that’s a lesson for the whole of life too.

  • The Long Road of Recovering.

    The Long Road of Recovering.

    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:

    My Healing started the day I realised the narcissism of my mother

    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.

    Tools laid by others, picked up to aid me.

    Reminding myself that I cannot be rushed.

    Step by Step, Moment by Moment.

    Walking, not rushing the long road of recovering.

  • My healing started the day I realised that my mother is a narcissist.

    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.

    My friend recommended to me the ‘pink book’.

    This book:

    Link here if you would like to buy a copy

    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.