James Ballantyne

Blog

  • How I believed in a ‘Feelings free’ Faith

    How I believed in a ‘Feelings free’ Faith

    If you’re not in any way religious you might want to look away from this piece. If you are in any way religious, especially Christian, you might not like it.

    I want to share something about how Evangelical Christianity suited me. More to the point, how it was perfect for me.

    It’s also the story about how I left my emotions at the door of the church. Well, again, thats an inaccuracy, it was more that there was almost no necessity to show emotion in church, and that made it perfect for me. Perfect to mask and hide. But also, because of my parents influence in it, I had no choice.

    When I think about the places of my childhood, I think about school, about church, about the clubs like swimming or scouts, and also the ‘free’ space in-between.

    School was a place of intellectual development, primarily. And once I got my untidiness sorted, I did quite well. Once I realised I wasn’t going to be supported or helped, it was me or nothing, so I got on with it – despite my parents.

    Swimming Club as well as football training and the school badminton club were all physical, Scouts was a bit of physical, and other survival activities, in which I was woeful. (I wasn’t taught how to survive life, I had to work this out, strange that) . In TA terms, my adaptive child was taking over, big time, so that I could fit and belong in these adult environments, like church.

    Church was ‘Spiritual’. Yes there were physical elements, like the youth club, and badminton group, and social. But it was barely emotional. Actually.

    It was anti- emotional.

    I grew up Evangelical, and letting emotions loose in church was seen as ‘inferior’ , ‘scary’ or almost what ‘cult’ like churches did. As a very young child I remember not being able to breathe or make a noise sitting through the very boring service, with only a bag of toys to play with under the seat.

    As an older child I was rewarded by what I knew. Memorise the verses, memorise the books of the bible, find verses quickly, find the animal/fruit in the bible verse. Do reading or learning homework. Volunteer in the Sunday school. Know things. Do things.

    When I had moment of despair in my room, aged about 9, and I tried to pray, I wanted so desperately to feel something. Feel that God was listening. Feel that I was about to have some kind of divine moment that I thought I was supposed to have, then have an amazing testimony, about how God came close and I felt something. But the prayer I despaired and felt like kicking the wall, closing my eyes and ending it all felt like it didnt go any where. I remember desperately wanting to feel something. And nothing came back.

    (How I nearly ended it all aged 9 is here)

    When I was 10 1/2 I ‘became’ a christian – I prayed a prayer because I had in my head all the ‘sins’ I had been made guilty of committing (I was selfish, spoiled according to my parents – oh and I felt guilt for even thinking of suicide age 9) so I prayed that ‘my sins’ were put in an bin and got rid of.

    I was asked what I felt about this big decision I made. I felt nothing. I knew that I had done something. But I didnt feel any different – was I supposed to start feeling things? Maybe I got a sense of feeling a tiny bit spiritually clean, from things I had no reason to acknowledge were mine to carry in the first place. God I sound screwed up psychologically.

    The adage was true though, in the main most people are sinned against than sinners, but you know, lets play on the individual sin in the guidebook for encouraging guilt, then dependence, and an easy victim to it. Trauma in the family that a child may have experienced is far too difficult to deal with.

    I digress, back to the ‘knowing’….

    I remember the songs, from Sunday school and beyond.

    ‘Be Still and ‘Know’

    ‘For this is ‘Know’

    ‘Knowing you Jesus, there is no greater thing…..’ (The ‘Kendrick’ Abba song, knowing me knowing you…Jesus..)

    Dont get me wrong, there were some songs about being happy (The Happy Song) and dancing too. But these seemed forced…no one ever felt like dancing…

    Songs, Sermons, remembering information. Engaged the brain.

    Space for silence, space to feel, limited.

    Then, when I was 13 I discovered this:

    It was in a tract by Agape Ministries in the UK, and my church undertook the ministry of it (and I did as a young leader and keen one) , to do a course on evangelism, that included 5-6 weeks on it, and then use a tract, ‘Knowing God Personally’ – that described the ‘bridge’ and the had this train on the back.

    The premise of the train was that Faith was based on Fact (and not feelings) and that feelings somehow were the carriage that followed on behind. Facts. Knowledge were important.

    Feelings followed.

    Faith was based on fact, because, it was important to know the bible, know the facts, know that it was historical, know that it was true – historically, know so that an argument could be ‘won’ , know so that faith was subject to what was described as the ‘turbulence’ of emotions.

    It also meant that even if I didnt ‘feel’ happy – or ‘feel’ that God was close, that I ‘knew’ that God was and that this provided certainty… apparently.

    As a young person who knew their trains. As a young person that had disconnected from their emotions – this was all great.

    Feelings were just an added bonus extra and not to be regarded at all.

    I could hide having feelings even more. And when I did have any feelings or emotions in life, over the next few years, or more – I could then ‘know’ that these weren’t what God would want me to have – feel shame for having them – and then consider it to be sinful to feel – and then ‘get back to knowing’ . Read the bible, Read, dont feel. Learn.

    If you know, you know – but the ‘Toronto Blessing’ stuff made things interesting for a few years. My ‘knowledge’ orientated church was cautious, compared to more charismatics. People ‘felt’ in the church for the first time, and it made them weird. And I went along to some of the weirdness, and I was determined that I wasn’t going to ‘feel’ the hype. It was the only time that permitted feelings came to church in my time. And it was pretty mad. And for those who for whom it was too mad, they retreated back to the safety of knowledge and facts.

    For me?

    I went on to become a ‘leader’ in churches, and so I had to be ‘responsible’. Therefore showing emotions wasn’t part of it. I had to be mature, I had to know things, I had to lead, inspire and have integrity. I had to cope. I could be professional. I could be ‘adult’. I could leave all and any child behind.

    As someone who had a disconnected sense of self, (and what I learned about ‘self’ spiritually is a whole other post) , church could easily be a place where I could hide emotions, where praise was heaped for stoical behaviour, and the pursuit of knowledge.

    Maybe now I have language for all of this experiences, growing up even in the early 1990’s where there was no conversation about emotions…anywhere, especially not for boys. Adapting into ‘Adult’ life as quickly as I could was what I needed to do, run away from childhood asap, and leave behind what that represented, emotions, play and curiosity. Was feelings free Christianity really what was on offer? Maybe thats not what was intended, but it meant that I could negate that carriage of the train, in regard to my spiritual life.

    I wonder now what the cost is and has been. I wonder how common this is in other denominations around the UK or beyond. I wonder whether emotions in church are ‘just’ for the hysterical or depressed, and how these are to be ‘got rid of’ or ‘discarded’ for being uncomfortable or in some way unspiritual. Im not blaming the church I grew up in for what it didnt know, but I also know that there were many in that church who were as bewildered and scared of the same monster that I had to encounter every day.

    Maybe it all goes back to way before the ‘Fact Train’ , Karen Armstrong writes about how the myth of the sacred story was turned into a desire for objective fact of the Biblical narratives, around 400 years ago. The feeling of the camp fire story making way for the cognitive reading, but this isn’t a general history lesson on theological feelings and emotions, its about how I could leave feelings and emotions at the door of the church, but in reality, I could leave them buried deep down, hidden away, and mask the childhood emotional abuse that happened.

    It has been a long road, a long rail even. It has been one for me in which I have begun to let the feelings and emotions out of the shadows, and be accepted as part of me.

    If you’d like to read more on my Spiritual Journey, or the resources that have helped me to reconnect my emotional life with my spiritual one, do have a look at the resources above. I particularly recommend Eckhart Tolle, and Gary Zukav, though there are others too.

  • Healthy Emotional movies… for Men?

    Last night Christelle and I were watching this film

    Marilyn Hotchkiss’ Ballroom Dancing & Charm School

    The Trailer is here

    Robert Carlyle Dances. Yes.

    But there’s much more to it than that.

    It was a film that centred Men and their dealing with emotions, such as grief, anger and memories. Yes, it wasn’t perfect and maybe not therapeutically perfect either. But it was good.

    So it got me wondering, what films have you watched that portrayed Men dealing appropriately, though not always perfectly, with their emotions? Do comment below

    I can think of a few others, Rocketman, Hector and the pursuit of Happiness, The Day we sang all watched in the last few years – but what for you has been a good film that shows Men dealing well with difficult emotions?

    Do share below:

  • Weekly Chat

    Over the last few weeks I have just started a ‘live’ chat from my fb page ‘Healing for Men’ – yeah the old title of this blog, which I haven’t got round to changing as yet..

    In it so far I have talked for about 10-15 minutes on something that I have learned that previous week, it might be something id written about here too, so if you want to watch do subscribe.

    Anyway, last week instead of going live I pre recorded an interview with John Pearson a well being coach on who wanted to share with me some stuff he’d noticed about Men as he was listening them in his sessions.

    Here’s that conversation, do have a watch

    Male guilt and Self Love- A conversation with John Pearson

  • 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.

  • Permission to be Happy

    Yesterday I wrote about learning the choice to be Happy.

    What I realise today is that there’s something else.

    Being Happy requires safety.

    Its easy to be moany, negative, critical,

    easy to be unhappy, easy to be numb

    easy to hide feelings even.

    When I was these things I was easy to manipulate.

    Easy to sink into the swamp.

    Easy to be abused.

    Easy to stay in the fight for the others, and be unknowingly co-dependent with it.

    Why would I want other people to be happy, if I had barely a concept of it.. maybe I wanted people to need me….

    Happiness wasn’t a dream for me – I numbed emotions

    Happiness wasn’t even a ‘concept’ I could conceive for myself. Not deep down.

    Reality was that for 40 years I’d lived with people who didnt want me to be happy. (they weren’t Happy themselves…)

    So why even chase it, easier to theorise or criticise the notion of it.

    Being Happy for me, required safety.

    Actually.

    It required permission.

    Specifically, I needed to hear and accept the possibility that I could actually be happy.

    It was one of my friends who said to me; ‘James, When are you going to be Happy?’ but not in that critical way, more in a ‘James – when are you going to consider that you could be happy and that being happy is ok and safe to be‘ kind of way.

    James…. Its ok… you can be Happy….

    I needed permission, and safety, and the opening of a possibility that I could feel such things, or live in a way that was about happiness.

    And my mind raged with it.

    Because, my happiness was selfish – id been told, My needs weren’t important – id been told, other peoples happiness was more important than my own – id been told , happiness is for an ‘eternal life’ – id been told, happiness was shallow – id been told…. all the messages..and others besides.

    I could easily overthink being happy and drag myself into that thinking space.

    So I needed permission to be Happy.

    Safe, brave, permission.

    Permission to begin the process of searching, seeking and feeling Happy.

    Even from in the midst of controlling relationships that had another few years to be dealt with. Not before. But in the midst.

    It wasn’t that ‘when id sorted everything id be happy’ – because that was a lie. It was that in the beginning of being happy, or that the potential removal of unhappiness was possible even at that point. It was on the table.

    Choosing to be… happy…in the midst of abuse and oppression is likely to challenge…. as the oppressor is losing control. Dancing in the metaphorical fucking rain.

    Even beginning to realise that happiness was possible, and having the courage and safety to permit myself to it, invoked a glimpse of lightness, of happiness in itself. I stepped a tiny bit, another tiny bit, out of the leadened swamp.

    So as I shared my learning yesterday, and awareness of the choice of my emotional awareness, one small step at a time, I realised that my awakening to happiness personally was about permission giving, about possibility, and about safety. I had received in so many ways the kindness of the universe through a breakdown and rebuild, yet that rebuild would not be full until I could see the lights above and know and feel that these could be true for me too.

    Today, 4 years on I can give myself permission to be happy. What I needed the first time was the safe permission from others.

    I can be happy, and so can you.

    It is possible and permissible Now.

    It might take courage….

  • 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.