In terrential rain my plane took off from Newcastle airport on Saturday morning, the rain streaming down the windows as it taxied along the tarmac
As it took off, yes there was a tiny bit of extra turbulance through the low lying cloud
The cloud become whiter and whiter as the plane ascended
The windows in got brighter, the light shine Above the clouds, blue, bright sky.
White clouds
Rain is about perspective
Pain is about perspective
Shame is about perspective
Seeing rain from above, changes things
Rain can’t be avoided but can be pushed through, to see what’s above, to see rain from a distance
Like rain and clouds, I am not pain, or shame, or emotions,
I..just..am
I am the watcher , I am the life that can make new things happen, I am life that can be compassionate towards myself I am the watcher than can see.
In the continued path of self compassion the flight gave me to opportunity to sense and feel the wonder of the universe, clouds from a different perspective. May
May I feel the joy and wonder of the universe, may I choose to love myself in the midst, in the clouds and above the rain and storms. May I experience the deep joy and gratitude of being myself.
And it deluged the country lanes off North Yorkshire today for about 4 hours.
And it was so bad, and spectacular some people took photos of it.
So did I
But I was inside. With the other sweaty walkers who’d made it indoors – filling the cafe with a stale damp smell of wet boots and jackets.
And by three hours later the water had cascaded down the hill, and it was sunny at the top, and most of what was evident in the photo above, had dried away.
But that’s not really what I wanted to write about. I wanted to give you the first part of my afternoon.
Rain.
As I drove back I saw something far far more remarkable and precious.
28 Miles later and I have driven down the hill, over the A19 to Northallerton and making my way home.
When I’m about a mile from my house and driving in the 30mph zone and about to queue for a roundabout.
It has clearly been raining here too.
The paved ‘pavement’ with its undulating slabs and grass edges was holding pools of water, substantial ones.
And next to one of these pools was a navy blue push chair, containing a baby, the handle of the pushchair held by mum.
Standing in the pool of water on the pavement was a tiny blonde boy. Navy blue dungarees, blue trainer shoes.
Must have been about a year old, not much more.
Standing still in the water, water about as high up to the top of his soles, so, not too deep.
He was standing there as if this was the first puddle he had stood in in his entire life. Spellbound.
Not splashing the water, running in it – but just standing in it.
Feeling it.
Noting the moment.
Amazed.
Then I thought, given the lack of rain, and his age – it might well be the first time he has seen a puddle.
Seeing and feeling a puddle for the first time.
Standing amazed, raptured. That feeling.
First
Time
Puddle
And it was pure joy.
And watching it, for that split second moment – was pure joy too.
Seeing childlike curiosity and joy – was joy in itself.
Maybe that blue dressed blonde boy reminded me of someone…
Maybe it was joyful too to see how the mum was letting the boy just ‘be present’ in the puddle and feel it
It was ‘just’ a moment. But it was a ‘joy’ moment.
A moment where I saw the little boy in the arena – the little boy in the puddle – the boy risk being himself – the boy risk the reaction of others – and have this moment validated by his mum.
The boy experience the feeling of being wet. (and not just in a bath)
Its easier to watch the rain and take photos of it, and moan about it, or be bored and frustrated by it.
It was easier for me to stand on the edge of the arena and avoid the feelings, and watch as I didn’t take part in being myself in life. It wasnt easier, it was, as Brene Brown says, about numbing, shielding and hiding my vulnerabilities for the sake of survival. Watching life from the edge, disconnected.
Watching the boy in the puddle helped me realise how I started to feel.
How I needed the safety to dip my toe into the feelings – of metaphorical water.
To let myself feel
Feelings ive found can be like puddles, they can be like waves, they can be like waterfalls.
High Force – County Durham – Sept 2022
Some are pleasant, some are calm, some surprise and some feeling like a downward uncontrollable swirl, sometimes the water is warm, other times it’s cold.
I used to try and wear layers of waterproofs, heavy boots and umbrellas and lather myself in oil. Anything to avoid and protect myself from getting wet emotionally. Or stay in the warm spots of looking into and helping others with their emotions. I could understand aspects of other peoples water. But without letting my own feet get wet. Too risky.
Im on a continual journey of keeping my feet in the water. Keeping my feet in. Not afraid.
Feeling, the sand, the cold, the wet, the reaction.
Feelings like rain, like water.
Raw, naked feet and ankles.
About to feel.
The joy of the first time puddle.
The joy of feeling
And it was ok. It was ok to feel. Safe to feel.
The vulnerability of feeling for the first time.
Learning to feel
Learning to accept
Learning to be raw and naked
Learning to stand in the water
Attending to my human self, my emotional self.
The raw joy of first time puddles.
References to ‘The Arena’ are from Brene Browns book Daring Greatly – which im reading at the moment.
For the first time in my life I have succumbed to asking for help for physical health.
And. Whisper it quietly. Quietly. ….
My first week, 3 runs has felt AMAZING.
I feel great.
Im sorry.
Maybe, just maybe, its as much time for me to focus on physical health as emotional health – for 40 years it was one and not the other, then for 4 years, mostly the latter – now its time for a bit of balance. Time to lose the pandemic pudding around my waist.
Time to be ‘that’ person who ‘Runs’
Who runs regularly.
And Enjoys it. Until I get injured, and I hope I dont.
So. Im sorry.
Im about to be ‘that person’ .
The Couch to 5K progress reporting, ‘Running’ person.
And tell you what. I might just be loving it too.
Feels good so far.
I might be keeping you updated. I might share the strava runs too.
End of running progress reports.
Im a beginning again, enjoying it Runner. And that means I might become evangelistic about it.
Because its a good thing.
Dont shoot me, but I ran this week, I liked it, and I want to tell you all about how good it was.
Taken from ‘Love for Imperfect Things – Haemin Sumin
What does every Miss World contestant – and also every abuse survivor want? Peace.
Peace from the noise, Peace from the terror, Peace from the eggshells, Peace from the pain
Peace
Space
Freedom to be.
A safe space. Rest.
Peace to sleep, safety to be.
Loved…
So, I may disagree slightly with Eckhart Tolle, as peace is found when circumstances change – when a situation of abuse changes.
When the space is opened up, where there is safety, there is space to breathe, peace.
And in that moment of peace, comes often the same realisation, of Who I am.
I take myself back a week.
I had no peace for 2 weeks. Anxiety was ruling my mind, constant swirl of a trauma reaction. I was unsettled.
Yet I was safe, Yet I was and am loved, Yet I could breathe…I had been taken back.
Part of recovering peace, for me was about remembering who I deeply am. That I am valuable, that a part of me was hurting (not my whole self), part of me required loving attention and warmth. I didn’t have peace until I could offer myself this tenderness.
My mind didnt have peace until after EMDR treatment.
It was all part of the process of recovering my emotional equilibrium and balance.
Peace.
I can sense that im in a state of peace, because my mind feels quiet.
To be honest, I struggle to write, when there doesnt seem to be that urge to write about something that’s causing pain or anger, or difficulty or trauma.
What is peace for you?
Freedom from the noise?
Rest?
Quiet?
Time to breathe?
That deep realisation of knowing who you are?
Our True Self can never be lost
Even for a single moment
Just like the present can never be lost
it is always here and now
whether we pay attention to it
Haemin Sumin, Love for Imperfect things
Find a moment to be still with your true self today.
Be Still. Quiet. Attentive.
Do not strive for peace.
Listen attentively, like you’d embrace your friend.
When I got triggered by something a few weeks ago I went into a bit of a spiral.
Downwards.
And I forgot.
My mind went into overdrive
The words, fears and punishments from my childhood got relived into my present.
Thats what trauma, childhood trauma, any trauma feels like.
Mind whirlwind.
Anxiety.
Thinking.
Over thinking.
And in the midst, I forgot.
I forgot because I had got consumed.
I forgot who I was, I became the frightened child, the frightened me, hiding and scared.
I didn’t even realise I was doing it.
I needed my fiancé to keep checking in and asking me.
The Trigger.
Did it matter what it was? No – but it was big one.
I spiralled downwards for at least 5 days. But tried to keep going and pretending.
During that time wrote a bit – publically
And wrote a bit privately – a lot of emotions out, alot
But I was still on edge. Even after beginning to realise myself in the present.
Beginning to regroup and rebuild
Telling myself, that I am safe, that I am enough, that I am stronger than I realise.
I did a great job of telling others too, but I needed to hear myself.
But ultimately, it wasn’t what I wrote, what I read
The things I needed to know.
I had to learn again, and again that I didnt have to suffer alone – and my lovely Christelle sat with me on times, affirmed that I was having a trauma reaction.
Affirmed that what I was going through was trauma anxiety.
Taking me back to the past, unable to rest in the moment
Unsettled.
I forgot and also I resisted, I resisted to do the very things that I knew would help
So I did all the other things, like comfort eat, excessive cleaning, distractions.
Part of me was anxious, so I listened to that part
Part of me was also resistant to and didn’t want to get rid of the anxiety, it was loving the attention
Two weeks of the swirl, back and forth, heart racing, forgetting to breathe.
Forgetting my safety
Forgetting the journey to this point
Forgetting and being over taken by mymind racing
Forgetting my power
Forgetting myself
Yet in the midst of last Thursday, in the afternoon, I somehow did something that I remembered.
Yes I had began to regroup the preeceding few days. Get myself out of the swirl
Something I had barely needed or used for a long while.
So I sat down
Breathed
Closed my eyes
And for a few minutes listened to my breathing
and tapped either side of my shoulder blades, first quickly, then slower.
Breathing too.
Why had I forgotten EMDR? In the midst of a severe trauma reaction, I forgot a lot.
The part of me that wanted pain to remain dominant raced – Tolle calls this the Pain-Body -the ego.
Anxiety induced forgetfulness
And what happened.
Since I did EMDR, my brain completely stopped the anxiety patterns. And it has done ever since.
The descending of calm on me.
Calm. Utter calm.
A reordering of the neurones and programming, that no amount of writing, eating or other externals would have changed. Almost miraculous to be honest, and virtually instant.
Incredible. Its as if my entire mind has shifted. To a new place. One that isn’t racing.
I can breathe.
Literally 5 minutes of EMDR. After 2 weeks of trauma responding. Panic and Anxiety.
On one hand I could be annoyed I didnt do EMDR within a few days, on the other the trigger did give me the opportunity to work through some things- part of me that needed to heal.
Maybe I need to have mental notes around my flat – remember the good practices. Remember EMDR, or Yoga, or other good trauma healing practices. Especially when in the midst im likely to forget.
Recognising that recovery from a lifetime of abuse is seriously hard work, so im not beating myself up, but noting what trauma and anxiety does to the memory in the present, and how it created in me resistance to wanting to, and conscious memory of what I needed to do in response.
How a trauma reaction caused me to forget – and highlight what I might need to do to remember in the future.
Whether you are an adult or child, a person who has suffered any kind of abuse from another, whether sexual abuse, neglect, emotional, spiritual or financial abuse – you will have encountered one or all of these.
It is one thing knowing that I have been abused.
It is another convincing others who might be able to be allies, or to do something about it or for any kind of justice, to listen.
One of the recurring themes in abuse situation is ‘Why doesn’t the person leave’? as is ‘Why dont you tell someone?’ – and whilst there are barriers to disclosing abuse – like the fear of not being listened to, there are also reasons why someone chooses not to believe an abuse victim.
These are all choices a person makes when they decide not to believe, stand with, or act on behalf of an abuse victim. Time and time again, it is one of these.
They are heard a lot by the way. Alot.
They’ve only seen your abuser being ‘nice’ – nice people aren’t nice – they’re hiding and masking – helpfulness hiding reality – they’ve been manipulated too….
They see that person in the role they are in ‘They couldn’t do that, they’re a christian/police officer/teacher/social worker/vicar’
They have believed the abuser by dismissing you based on the abusers projections : ‘they’re just a tell tale’, ‘dont listen to _____ they’re always gossiping about me’
They have given that person a role – no point complaining to their boss – their boss employed them, is culpable and that is a position to defend.
They dont want to now be responsible for them, knowing this information about them.
They have an institution to protect – If this is true, the whole (church, school..) reputation will be harmed – tbh, bury and avoid it and it’ll be worse in the long run…
(The rules and guidelines in the institution is set in favour of the powerful. The fear of the 0.5% likely false allegation influences policy. )
They are equally terrified of your abuser.
They are dependent of your abuser themselves, for love, money, status, worth..anything
They dont want to see them in the same way you do.
They privately do believe you but dont want the drama
They have listened to your abusers false tears and personal victimhood – DARVO has worked on them
They believe in a naive reality that people cant be that bad.
They believe the myth… ‘oh no a parent or a woman wouldn’t do that’
They dont want it to be their problem too
They cant understand why its taken you so long to tell them, I mean – you know deep psychological trauma and fear of not being believed..all actually being thrown back… oh… there was a right time was there..?
They want some kind of proof, and their memories of the same events are different, or ‘you dont look like someone who has been through abuse’. – as ifs there is a ‘certain look’ ?
Time to fess up though.
I was some of these. I was some of these when members of my family described to me the abuse of my parents. So I knew some things, but was not in a position to deal with it, and chose not to, terrified, afraid of losing status and terrified of having to deal with all of it. So I get it. I think I tried to be balanced – whilst still on the avoidance run. I wasn’t ready, and so, I get that some people just aren’t ready to hear it.
Im not sure that excuses people for whom they have a duty of care for individuals. Yet again Youthworkers were ignore when flags were raised in Telford as they were in Rotherham on child abuse cases. System too busy. System frightened. Its not just statutory authorities. Churches and Safeguarding – on issues like domestic abuse, child sexual abuse and everything else, there’s lip service to look good and then theres reality – institutional gaslighting, please dont tell me it doesn’t go on and none of the above dont apply to you. Institutions wise up. Seriously.
As Bessel Van der Kolk writes, a memory of Trauma is 99% of the time a truthful one, its just been masked and hard to access, its been fragmented by decades of abuse, wounds and masking, buried away in there and takes time, love and safety to be brought to the surface. Someone in a domestic abuse relationship might not be able to remember childhood abuse. Its being masked. The brain is hiding it for current safety sake. Believe a victim, especially one who doesnt play the victim. Believe the victim when they are upset and angry – wouldn’t you be when your whole life has been affected by abuse. (Bessel Van Der Kolk, 2005, The Body keeps the Score) .
These are all choices a person makes when they decide not to believe.
Have you encountered any others?
And in most of the cases, abuse victims and survivors get it. Honestly. We get why you wouldn’t want to believe us when we say what our abuser did. It is too horrible that even we dont want to go there. Not everyone is going to say ‘I believe your story’ the first time. Problem is is that that first time might be the only time someone will give the opportunity. In other occasions a person might see it later and be able to deal with it (that was me). By not believing the first time the damage can be horrific.
What did it take for me to change to believe the truth? What might it take for you? What might it take for institutions to do the same?
Just want to say, well done on doing the hard thing
The hard thing? It was nothing, I just got on with it
You are incredible, that was brave, that was hard
Aww shucks, really, it wasn’t much, anyone could have done it
But you did it, yes you, you are incredible
Now you’re going too far, all I did was the thing
But that’s such an important thing, a first brave thing, I’m proud of you, you did the thing
Yeah, and Im just thankful for all the people who helped me to do the thing, I couldn’t have done it without them
But you still did the thing, you made the call, you made the decision, you did the thing.
I had no choice really, was desperate and there was no way out, I had to do the thing
And you did the thing, at a point of desperation, you did the thing, well done, brave human, you did the thing and now you’re here, you’re alive, you are living, because you did the courageous thing, you changed the pattern to your normal, you did the thing
True, my friend, I did the thing
You the hardest thing, brave, courageous, strong you
I’m just me, anyone couldve done it
But you did it, you did the thing
You did the hard thing, you made it happen
Thank you
Do you see it now?
Maybe, but I don’t think I’m amazing for doing the thing
That’s why I’m here to keep reminding you, you are amazing, you are incredible, you are stronger and more inspiring that you realise. You did the thing.
How many times did I have this conversation in my journey, and I still do. Not seeing how difficult, or how brave I am for doing ‘the thing’ – whether that thing is facing the pain or shame, whether that’s going to therapy, or choosing to listen to my inner voice and respond, or whether it’s taking responsibility for my feelings, orstanding up for myselfor others.
So many times I wanted someone else to do it for me.
So often before id hidden everything and survived every blow.
Surviving lone as a great result of being counter dependent. Pretending to survive alone.
Something to do, somewhere to go, something to worry about, something now, something then, something tomorrow, something near, something far away, something someone else said, did, or didn’t do, something, there’s always something
Something to feel guilty about, something to feel concern about, someone to please, someone to be responsible for, something to react to, something…..
There’s always something
Something to read, something to tidy, something to give, something to buy, something to see, something to be addicted to, something to plan, something to make, something
There’s always something
Something crowding in, something taking away the space of being
Something there to soothe the thing that’s a worry
Something stressful to focus on instead of the actual thing that needs dealing with
A pressure, a twist, a turn, a plan, a dream, an ambition..
Something…
What if there was a gap in the something, the elusive gap
A gap in the cultural programming
A gap in the emotional state
A gap in the responsibility
A gap that you and I make
A gap to breathe, slow
A gap to notice the pace of the things and decide not to be on that pace
A gap in which the inner voice can be heard
A gap in the moment, a gap in the mind
A gap to notice that you notice the inner voice, and that this is not you, just your voice
A gap to listen
A gap to feel the present moment
The present you
Where no thing else matters but you, inner you
Human you, conscious you, alive you
Can you hear the gap calling?
The voice from the deep, screaming, making itself known to you, wanting space
Wanting the gap
The gap between, the Elusive gap
Thats the power you and I have
The power of the now moment
The time is now, yes now.
A brilliant resource on this, on becoming more aware of your consciousness is The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle, Im also just reading his follow up – A New Earth.
James Ballantyne 