James Ballantyne

Blog

  • Trauma and the Fragility of Dreams.

    Trauma and the Fragility of Dreams.

    Its the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting (Paulo Coelho)

    ‘Whats the dream?’ once asked my university tutor, over eight years ago. It was a question I meekly answered, along the lines of ‘to be well known in theodrama’.

    It was the first time, aged 38 that I had been asked this question. It was a question I couldn’t answer. Dreams were not possible. Dreams were too selfish. At that time, and up until then and some years after, I didnt have dreams, dreams about what I wanted to be, or do. It’s probably the same part of me that couldnt engage with ‘The Purpose driven life’ book that did the christian rounds back in the early 2000’s. Whilst I could also criticise it for the being capitalist American goal setting drivel, it was also that deep down, purpose and dream were something that I couldnt have.

    Dreams werent allowed growing up, unless they were the same as the expectations my parents, mostly the abusive dominant one. Yet, dont mistake that for them being driven and forcing me to ‘be a vet, or doctor, or psychologist’ no, that would be too clear cut – because so many people ive spoken to in the last few years talk of parents who pay for their university to ‘make sure’ that their child becomes a certain thing (doctor /vet etc) . My parents wouldn’t do that (because that would mean actually offering financial support) no, the expectation was to just ‘not upset your mother’ and ‘dont let her down’ , without any actual support to do so. It wasnt that they couldnt afford it, they didnt want to.

    This meant that my choices for career had to be both self sufficient, and somehow please and not upset. It most definitely wasnt a ‘dream’. It was about somehow making her happy, or fulfilling my role as golden trophy child so I could be boasted about (for going to university) to her coffee shop churchy friends, or instead be complained and moaned about (which is almost certainly more likely) for upsetting her.

    Allign this also with belonging to a faith, and having an identity in which I was desperate to please God, and do ‘his will’ and so, in this space and having no dream for any other career, I wanted to continue being a youth worker, after being a junior youth leader in my church. It seemed to be something I enjoyed and was good at. Was it a dream? Was it even a calling?

    I hoped it would be a sensible and ‘good’ thing – but no it aroswed their fury…. – and did it make ‘them’ happy. Dear God no.

    12 years later, and even having written books on youthwork and done an honours degree, (all paid for myself with £0 from them) I am asked when I am going to get a proper job like a teacher on a regular basis. Or whether the degree I had paid for (and completed as a mature student with two small children) was worth it. Though it didnt stop them coming to my graduation and ruining it, with the celebratory present to me being a meal out in a cafe for lunch in which I was asked to pay 1/2. (that went a long way to pay off the £9000 fees, I tell you)

    Anyway, I digress.

    What i only realised a few years ago, and its been reiterated to me in the last 6 months too, is the level of coping that is required in situation of high emotional, physical or financial stress (and a lot of my first 40 years included these at varying degrees of high) is that its only possible to think or plan one hour, one day or one week, or one pay month at a time, and even then, being in a constant place of turmoil, navigating eggshells, fears, avoidance and drama – life is only about being in it and soothing it – through whatever means.

    Future planning felt conditional. Some of my thought patterns were things like:

    If I become a ________ then we’ll have money and then _______ will like me.

    If I do _________ and then ________ then I might have temporary relief from being hurt.

    If I do _________ then ill get a qualification and more money and with more money itll mean things will be easier.

    If I do ________ then God will be happy with me

    If I do __________ then my parents might be actually proud of me.

    None of this was ever about dreams. It was about trying to please others, trying to soothe others, trying to be safe, trying to earn something that with emotionally abusive people, was actually not possible. But I carried on. Thats was the pattern.

    And then I would get angry and think to myself that I had done something that would hopefully help….but it was met with only further rejection or criticism, so, then I would try harder.

    It wasnt dreams, it wasnt purpose – it was existing inside a tortured shell that was trying to earn impossible affection, validity and recognition.

    Thats what survival does.

    And that had been my conditioning since birth, and until the last few years, I hadn’t realised how unnormal it was, or the effect of childhood trauma on being able to think about the future in a clear purposeful way.

    I read ‘Codependency no more’ back in 2019/20. In it Melody Beattie, describes how healing from this, is about slowly remembering that we can have our lives to lead (and not be waiting for someone else to change/get better/not be addicted) , and start setting small goals, and maybe even have dream lists. Even at this point in my healing, I found this a really difficult thing to do. It was alien to be to set a goal. To make plans. Yes I was in my own flat, yes I had all the opportunity and space in the world. but I hadn’t yet given a future a thought, and in that space I was just enjoying being, and enjoying being safe.

    Goals and plans did include being able to go for walks, or holidays. But not quite dreams. It was all week to week. And then Covid hit.

    Bottom line is that I was scared to have dreams. Scared because for so long any dream was conditional, and any dream was something I would have to more than likely have to support myself alone. And for so often dreams meant a kind of work that I didnt have the confidence to keep going in, or had the voices of self criticism that would cause it to end. Any encouragement was in the main self determined, and that was frail, especially when those thoughts had been indwelt with self protection and fear. Dreams means desire, and desire was also quashed as being selfish.

    Can you understand the mess of my head?

    In Johann Haris book ‘Lost Connections’ he shares, when talking about children who had experience of abuse and depression in their lives:

    At some profound level M had discovered that , extremely depressed people have become disconnected from a sense of the future , in a way that other really distressed people have not’

    They are, in all intense a purposes living in the here and now. What he tried to set about was whether this was cause or effect. It’s significant though, that if motivational growth is dependence on Autonomy, Belonging and Competence (Deci/Ryan) then if that Autonomy is about being able to create, plan for and make choices about the future, and growth happens when this is the case. What happens when that is taken away – consciously or subconsciously. This happens in organisations too, purposeless organisations become depressed and anxious.

    For about 14 months I had been living in a state of being that included enjoying my job, having a sense of distance from my childhood past and feeling safe, secure and getting to a place of relative security. In that time I had began to be able to give time to the possibility of a dream, and give a lot of time for this dream. I was able to think ahead… and thinking ahead was a gift, as this helped to balance the times of anxiety and ‘the past’ coming back – and have one tiny foot in future possibility to keep hold of.

    For the last 6 months that has barely been possible. Ive been hit with a number of situations, relating to facing the past again, its situation and injustice, that has meant that what I have needed to do is to dig deep into ‘just being’. Whilst some of that hasn’t quite ended, theres relatively clarity in the mud of it all. But what happened as a result?

    Its funny, its one thing trying to live in the now, in the present – but theres one thing about living in the present when the future is open and full of possibility, another when the past has seeped in and the future feels clouded. It’s still the present from a time perspective, but it’s a space full of anxieties, flashbacks and uncertainty, digging deep one day at a time. Dreamless, with the only dreams being the nightmare of the past being relived.

    I couldnt think about the future. I stopped being able to write creatively (part of the dream has been writing a children’s book) , I was writing responsively, expressively and about the hurt or the recovery or the learning through the moment by moment of it all. But sitting down and being able to write, or focus on the dream, was difficult, almost impossible. I was ok, in my day to day, but future thinking was nigh on impossible, though I tried to valiantly keep the flame alive.

    I didnt realise the extent to which being able to have dreams was a luxury, and privilege. I didnt realise that it wasnt selfish for me to have dreams or purpose, that was about me, and not just for others. Working on a dream stimulated me, gave me life, gave me purpose, spark and creativity, and took me one step into an unknown future, that I was in a good place about trying to get to.

    The only way we can save our dreams is to be generous to ourselves (Paulo Coelho)

    Dreams are important. They make life interesting.

    They take effort. But they require soft open heartedness. To be generous to myself in search of them, to know they will happen, to give myself grace in the pursuit of them. Grace I had, but had to unlearn self criticism and the voices.

    Dreams are important to have a step in a future that can keep the past thoughts away at times, not deny them, not bypass them, but balance them, because it can be so easily, with a traumatised mind, to have two feet stuck in the past, stuck in other peoples drama, stuck in responding to others.

    And now that ive got to a place in time beyond the dealing with and responding to past related stuff…. it’s time again… to give time for the dream.

    Having a Dream is way more complicated and important than it seems.

  • You Can’t force your Jigsaw (But do open the box)

    You Can’t force your Jigsaw (But do open the box)

    Each of us has bits of us that we dont really like. Theres the bits of us that got damaged by our parents or family when we grew up, whether this was abuse, neglect, abandonment, the choices of our parents and the hurts of these. Theres the bits of us in school, the parts where we adapted, the parts of us that we’re wounded, hurt. Theres the parts of us that we’d rather not talk about in polite company, the parts of us that turned to sex or drugs or alcohol or something other to soothe the pain, or the parts of us that hid away, the parts of us that acted in fear, anxiety, acted in vengeance and transferred inner anger from parents or jobs, onto partners, children or pets. Theres the parts of us that made choices when in survival mode, choices to be busy, choices to give to others from neediness, choices to take advantage of others, choices not to view another persons dignity and humanity, only as a service t our own. Then theres choices and actions in denial, to run away from dealing with the pain, to avoid it, to hide it.

    We all have them.

    Your pain might feel huge. But you are definitely not alone.

    All making our heart, our mind, our bodies…feel not quite right, or very quite wrong, or just stuck, or weary…

    All with a root of shame, or guilt or anger.

    And we would rather not go there.

    Then theres that inner voice that accompanies them all.

    Shame, Loathing, Guilt, Perfectionism, Control, Fear… all protecting the parts, all making a good argument for ‘not going there’ .

    And so often the morality we encounter – the shame of what we encountered, or what we did, or what we didnt do, who we hurt… feels too much to accept, feels too much to be able to get real about.

    We’d rather hide than face the truth

    We’d rather mask and hide than go there.

    We’d rather continue on, with that ache inside, than give light and warmth to a state of being thats hurting ourselves and others, yet its doing exactly that, and we’re spinning out of control.

    ‘So often… Morality is the Enemy of Growth’ (John O Donohue)

    The moral obligation to look good

    The moral obligation to be strong

    The moral obligation to ‘battle’ through darkness (or sin)

    The moral obligation to not feel shame, is to not feel anything.

    Yet, as a result that ache and pain haunts like a shadow, becoming more and more entrenched when challenged.

    I know. I didnt want to go there. Trying to keep a status quo whilst dying inside and running away from the pain, and the shame of what I was doing to soothe it. Until I cracked between it all, and lost everything, and yet…. realised that when everything was lost, I found something much more precious… eventually.

    Because those parts of us we’d rather hide are like parts of a jigsaw, and along with our hearts, our minds and bodies, theres fragmentation and fracturing within, caused by all the damage, to us and by us.

    And jigsaws, especially those with brittle edge pieces dont fit or mould together with force. Like trying to get two cuttlefish pieces to interlock.

    Friend. It isnt an inner battle you have to win.

    Battles are for armies.

    It isnt a war on the inside between the parts, even if they are raging, and making a noise. Their voice is often so loud.

    Your wounded parts are part of you, but they aren’t you.

    You hold the blow torch.

    Your heart is the gas.

    Love is the flame.

    And your parts and their raw, pained, rugged edges, mould together not with force, but with love, love that powers, love that emirates, love that emerges from your heart….once you finally, surrender, accept and listen to its call. Love from within resolves fractures and pain. Its warmth that melts the edges and aligns them into your soul and heart, its love that unifies your fractures and fragments, Its love that brings wholeness.

    Being a friend to the parts of you, the shame of your past that you’d rather not admit to, is a path marked with the deepest, most passionate and erotic love you can imagine, making love to your inner parts, melting their pain away with tenderness that is possible, even if thats new.

    Pain leaves with tears, leaves in a warm car, on the road to your own soul, to be met with harmony and kindness.

    The darkness you’re doing a battle with, in that tough man masculine way, won’t leave until you and your armour back down, and instead surrender to heat, light and love, and yes, that means losing control.

    But right now your pieces feel all over the places and control is an illusion anyway, shards of temporary colour disconnected, carried in a box that doesn’t want to be opened.

    Dare you lovingly open the lid…. and may love guide you in the integration of your whole, melting, welding, searing and bringing you to a harmony within, harmony your soul is already grasping for in the moments of pain you’re trying to hide.

  • Our Unique Aloneness.

    Our Unique Aloneness.

    There is within each of us the ache of aloneness. An aloneness borne from our uniqueness of experience, for there is no one whose footsteps have graced the world in the ways our own have. Childhoods filled with the complexity of unmet expectations, of abandonment, of navigating more than relaxing, even in a more secure childhood, an aloneness still permeates.

    Aloneness carried amidst the weight of the shame of having to stay silent, or carrying experience, of choices made and decisions slighted, of being hurt and bewildered, of self protection that creates walls, fears and wants to run and hide away. Aloneness of never being truly understood, never being allowed to be, never being seen. Aloneness that cannot be exposed, but appears in the midst of places where its not supposed to, the supposed happy childhood, marriage, the party and the church, the silent reality, the shame that it itself carries that no one else seems to know.

    Aloneness that both aches and hungers.

    Aloneness that no ‘other’ , no ‘thing’ and no ‘experience’ can truly fill, however hard we grasp, desire, dream or hope that it might. Aloneness that sits there, sometimes haunting, sometimes aching, sometimes screaming, sometimes raging, sometimes crying, sometimes seen, sometimes unseen. Aloneness hiding underneath the surface of the drama and distraction that pulls our energy towards and yet lurking underneath is a lack of something, and the presence of something, nothing, the bleak aloneness lurking in the shadow of the soul.

    Aloneness that raises its voice in the despair of never being truly loved, or seen or heard and yet though temporarily happiness covers it, its hollow ache exists, and craves for one more temporary fix, until it finally makes itself safe to be known and seen, when the fixes run out, the busyness ceases and its raw truth

    There is within us a deep sense of aloneness, that creates a need in others, or Gods, to fix, solve or mend us, expectations that they can never fill, a burden placed externally that is ours to face truly.

    Yet, paradoxically, it is only when we are truly alone, bravely alone that aloneness itself can be faced. When everything else is stripped away, and you allow yourself to go to the dark recesses of your own soul. The places you dare not go to, where the mist of shame festers over a cave of cold , dark , but truthful aloneness, where there is only you, embracing gently, willingly, openly, the lost truth that yours ,and my, life has carried.

    It is in that moment of going there, that there is realisation that there is a you, that is apart from the alone ache, when you travel towards it, you realise that you are not it, yet it haunted you like a lost presence throughout directing your life, yet, it wasnt ever you, just an ache in your soul waiting for you to love it, to listen to it, to face with courage and kindness.

    Let it speak, Let it say what its always wanted to, when you face it, its been there, being part of you, embrace it with love, for, theres nothing more uniquely universal that the aloneness within, and nothing more powerful than meeting it face to face and loving it into your presence, integrated, not afraid, not shamed. There is within us the presence of aloneness that brings us into true courage, and true depth, and true connection with the other.

    Man leaning on railings, looking out to the sea.

  • The First Page.

    On a brand new page

    Of a brand new journal

    On a brand new day, at 6am this morning….

    This arrived….

    A new Journal

    A new Day

    Sun shining through the windows

    I am.

    I am many things…but

    I also just am.

    Here.

    Now.

    Sitting in the gap before

    The beginning

    The gap before

    The gap between

    What awaits now….here in these pages

    Better than the love the universe has for me

    Better than love, wisdom, light, power and

    Soul enriched by harmony, creativity

    Soul surrendering to Joy that cloaks it’s being

    The invitation and calling

    The promise and prompt

    To

    Be open, stay open and walk and let

    The universe call you, chosen beautiful one

    Chosen for this time and this day

    Chosen, Joyful, glorious you.

    Here.

    Now.

  • Ive been a little bit quiet recently…

    Ive been a little bit quiet recently…

    Which given my output previously was probably not a surprise. Writing on here has taken a bit of a back seat for a number of reasons. I quit Facebook for two months too, and whilst ive spent a bit of time on Substack, where theres other writers and far far less on current news, drama of politics and tbh quite a bit of stuff I just really didnt need to see, engage with or for it to take up my energy.

    I needed to switch off.

    Ive switched off before, and many of you know that involved avoiding the news and radio, and quitting twitter.

    Its been a time where I have had to face a number of battles, ones that will probably never get mentioned here, and also some personal challenges that one day might do, some of which began days after I temporarily quit Facebook itself.

    What I have needed to do is dig pretty deep into whatever reserves I have just to live, and when I say live, I mean respond well and stay emotionally afloat amidst alot, when trauma, triggers, fears and anxieties could easily start to pull me backwards, and this includes work, and rest and be there for people close to me who have been in a place of struggle too.

    So I have been a bit quiet recently, in terms of writing on here, but what’s been so important to me has continued to be ….. writing….. whether this has been daily journalling, free writing and expressing myself in words – the writing that releases, thats not for public consumption.

    I have also realised that the last few years of being in a good place has significantly given me the inner space to be able to deal with the last few months, even if that has also meant refining what I was spending my energy on, a refining that was as much about making powerful choice to favour myself in my own soul and power, and not give myself away to consuming and reading.

    I have been quiet recently. Because I am ok. Because i was giving too much at times to this type of writing, the type that could sometimes get me into that endorphin cycle feedback loop of positivity, and maybe even trying too hard to be creative, original or helpful, when actually what I needed instead was to be me, in my raw vulnerability, and write for me. Im already on journal number 3 for this year.

    And Im typing up version 2 of my second book, and yes, sadly this stuff has stalled too, but I am about to restart this too.

    Am I writing because I need to explain everything to you? No.

    Or to apologise? No

    Maybe its just to say thank you, thank you for the messages that you’ve sent me via whatever means whenever I have mentioned that ‘your words were meaningful today’ or when ‘you’ve sent a message of support’ when I haven’t been able to say why, and still can’t.

    Life is bigger than writing, and Life is bigger than the stuff and I am continually , daily remembering and giving love to myself, to feel loved everyday, is also to care for my energy and protect it, to realise I can sit and read, listen to music and not use what I read to write something, or to expend energy writing in the way I have done fairly prolifically in the last few years.

    I have been useless at ever doing a regular piece of writing, ie just doing one piece a week, and limit myself, its seemed to be in bursts, or gaps, maybe thats what I could do, more heat and depth, and not just noise. But let’s just see, maybe thats for a next chapter of writing…and the books I want to write will definitely take priority. Am I ‘coming back’ …maybe…but definatley differently..

    So thank you.

    Im still here, and im more than ok. I really am.

    Bless you, and thank you

    Much deep gratitude

    James x

  • Bestowing Your Gift Softly.

    Bestowing Your Gift Softly.

    One of the treasures within each and every one of us is our hearts. You have one, as do I, and yet so often in our day to day lives our hearts, and the desires of them play a silent role in our lives. Advertisers appeal to our minds, our desires , our discontent and our wallets, our thinking is so honed and shaped that its the reason behind entire education systems, create knowledge, and experiences, so that you can work. Religion is not far different, belief is highly attuned to ‘thought’ and less about feeling (in some places feelings are derided or discarded within religion, for the sake of holding beliefs that are about facts) and I’m not deriding the pursuit of depth of knowledge or curiosity – our minds are important…but they are not everything.

    But our minds can only do so much, even if our thinking wants to convince us that it can do everything – thats often the role we have given it, thats more our ego than our whole. But our mind knows things, it knows experiences, it knows, it calculates, it thinks, constantly, and that constant thinking, is often why the heart seems to be silent. Yet a life without heart, is a life on the move, an life on constancy, a life reacting to the speed of thought, where each curiously results in action, where layers of life build on each other.

    One of the treasures is our hearts. It is where there is pure love, where there are feelings of anger, desire, passion, love, and where the channel opens to the soul , a place that can’t be thought into, it can only be felt, and have soft loving hands open the doorway, to a space of consciousness beyond, a place where there is harmony, security and the soft stillness of the inner love voice.

    Where your heart is there will be your treasure. Your life is ‘wholer’ when you can feel, and be grateful for being able to and safe to (Michael Singer, Living Untethered) and yet so often we live a life afraid of, in denial of, or ashamed of feelings, and the experiences in our lives that caused them. Spirituality is the task of loving softness on the parts we’d rather hide. ‘Morality is often the enemy of growth’ writes John O Donohue ( Anam Cara) Morality is thoughts and shame put together, often in institutional cultures and behaviours. Spiritual growth requires deep inner love, requires hearts, requires anger, requires the softness of the love that comes from the depth and mystery of our heart itself.

    A heart that holds when life around us breaks into a million pieces. A heart that heals with tears. A heart that responds inside with softness. A heart that loves the world with bliss and connection. A heart that rests and the moment at the end of each breath. A heart that tells you ‘ I love you’, ‘Im proud of you’ , even if your thinking wants to tell you otherwise. Your heart will always be on your side. Your thinking has so often been placed there from other sources.

    And when you find your heart, your life will shine with beauty.

    And when you find the gift of your heart, it was your heart that found itself all alone. For it is love that carries you in love all along, to find that love that hides under that shadows of shame and pain, and guilt and perfection, until its gift is accepted, and its gentle hands are held, walking hand in hand in love.

    Part of the beauty of the act of discovery is the integrity of its desire for wholeness. Your soul will not want to avoid of neglect the regions of your heart that do not fit the expected. When you trust yourself enough to discover and integrate your strangeness, you bestow a gift to yourself.

    Rather than annulling a complex part of your heart which would continue to haunt you, you have thrown your arms around yourself to embrace who you are’

    (John O Donohue, Divine Beauty)

  • The freedom to think differently.

    The freedom to think differently.

    (John O Donohue, Eternal Echoes)

    Then you know.

    When you know.

    That. You.

    Have the freedom to think differently.

    Differently from those who want to determine your thoughts.

    Differently from those whom you have to please.

    Differently from those who have taken it on themselves to be your thought and belief police.

    Differently too….. from the very thoughts that cloud your vision of who your thoughts say you are.

    Differently too from the programming of those thoughts, and their effects.

    You….in your youness…. can choose.

    You…. in your youness …..have freedom

    You ….in your youness are separate from the thoughts

    Pause. Between the stimulus and the response (Victor Frankl)

    You can put that pause there.

    Right now, you can choose to look out of your window and think about what you see…. whether thats a tree, a building or a cloud.

    You have that freedom. The gap is yours. The gap….might be you.

    Until that point of knowing… the thoughts that you didnt realise are doing it are shaping you…..yet…..when….then….all of a sudden….. theres a you emerging beyond, before and within thought.

    Consciousness spilling into the poignant pause, and you can, truly can….listen to the pause.

    The place where you reside. In your youness.

  • Joys…are there to be felt!

    Joys…are there to be felt!

    To feel it

    I had to feel it.

    Just like when I was on the beach today with my team, a day out in the glorious north east coast, at Whitley Bay/ Cullarcoats. Food was eaten, the sun was out, yes there was a westerly breeze.

    Old me would have kept his shoes on. Old me was scared to feel. Old me would be afraid to enjoy himself. Old me would have stayed in his head. Old me would probably have told people off for taking their shoes off. Old me would have thought them childish.

    Today, the sand on my feet belonged to me.

    Today, I didnt care, and it was time to let my feet get covered in warm glorious sand.

    And put my feet into the water.

    Blue Sky meets the Crisp cold north sea.

    Ripples of sand, water and sun dancing

    And my feet part of it all

    Feeling

    To feel it, it had to be felt.

    And I remember a time before.

    When my head would prevent me from feeling, because it was safer that way.

    Thats what denial, distraction, critical old me would have done. Anything to avoid feeling. Anything to stay in safe mode.

    I used to live near the beach as well. For a whole year I would walk along the beach, in shoes or boots. They were my covid restrictive walks, along the sand, glorious…but..

    watching others in the water

    watching dogs run in and out

    taking photos of the sea.

    me walking along the sand, in boots, keeping my body clothing layers away from feeling.

    scared to feel.

    Until one day I decided to take off the shoes.

    Until one day I realised it didnt matter if I got sand everywhere, or my feet wet or anything, because it didnt matter.

    I wasnt going to get told off.

    I didnt need permission

    I could feel

    I could run in. I could make splashes

    I could get my t shirt wet

    It was ok to feel.

    It was safe to feel.

    It wasnt enough to think about feeling. It wasnt enough to watch the water, to assess, judge or stay distance from it.

    It wanted me to feel it, to feel its abandonment and life in it. Inviting me to freedom, requires feeling it, even just toes, just cold, just anything.

    Joys are there to be felt.

    Joys are there to be felt!

    Thank you for reading!

    My previous piece on Joy is here…it feels like it’s a thing!

  • Simple, Little…Joys

    Today I made my own peanut butter in a weighouse store

    I made my own peanut butter, pressed the button and watched all the peanuts grind and turn themselves into peanut butter

    Like this …. so I took a photo….

    And it was just glorious and I smiled. 

    A little joy. 

    And then I realised that so much of life is about little joys

    Walks along rivers 

    Food we love to eat, and share about in Google or Instagram

    Like this from a recent meal out in the olde tapas bar in Darlington 

    Or a space to be, like a coffee shop, a book or a view, even one in a town park like here.

    Little joys on our lives that I like taking photos of, even with that all too distracting phone with it’s many people and messages and scroll and thinking. 

    Sometimes I want to capture the moment

    Capture the little joy. 

    Keep that as a picture in my pocket. 

    I like it here, can I keep it as a memory. 

    I like this moment, it’s just fills me with calm, and joy

    I like here and now….it’s just fun and sparkly. 

    Like flowers or rainbows

    Top of the mountain moments 

    Joys are all around, and awaiting for us to see them

    From the joy that’s already inside. 

    Joys, like trains arriving

    Regardless of whether it’s just a diesel sprinter…or a freight train thundering through, the magic, the noise and everything a little boy squeals at….

    Joys that just happen, joys that bring smiles

    Joys that require no thinking, they just are

    Little joys are all around us

    Little joys are life

    Make my heart smile

    Make life worthwhile

    Like music and puppies and splashing in rain,

    Colour and taste and journeys 

    And nature, and simple free things

    Like flowers in bloom and their colours so pure 

    Even just these outside of my door

    Doesn’t matter their name, or label,

    Just that they are

    Simple, little, free joys everyday

    Waiting to be seen

    Waiting to be embraced by our heart open with life

    Simple joys, connecting our lives like dots on a puzzle

    As we travel from one joy to the next

    And in between think, and grind and work and consume

    Yet open our eyes

    And open our hearts

    For little joys, that makes our heart smile

    Are life in it’s fullest 

    And the more we see

    The shorter the gaps are between them

    Joy mixed with beauty

    Joy

    Right here

    Now.

  • The Lie we’re conditioned to believe.

    I will be ok. 

    Thats the lie. Right there. 

    Actually not quite. 

    Because thinking about it, ‘I will be ok’ was always true, as im still here now, and ‘I will be ok’ was what I used to say to myself a lot, when going through the bewilderment of emotional abuse and manipulation in childhood and in a long term marriage. When things got tough, or weird or both, and much was just what I had been used to since birth; ‘I will be ok’ would be what I said to myself. 

    And because im here writing this, I guess that isnt the liee then. That was grit and determination rearing its strengthening head. 

    The lie was this. 

    ‘I will be ok….if’ 

    ‘If’ that tiny little word. 

    ‘If’ could also appear at the end of the phrase

    ‘They might like me .. IF’ 

    or

    ‘They might be proud of me … ‘IF’ 

    or 

    ‘Things might be ok…’if’’

    But lets get back to the first one

    ‘I will be ok….if’ 

    Conditional Okay-ness. 

    Because thats what it is. Ultimately. It’s about having a self belief that is only satisfied when certain conditions happen. Conditional self- worth, self -respect, self-regard. 

    ‘I will be ok….. if im a little bit fitter’ 

    ‘I will be happy … if I write a piece that goes viral’ 

    ‘I will be happy…. on a sunny day’ 

    ‘I will be ok… if ‘they’ treat me ok’ 

    ‘I will be ok….. if _______ happens’ 

    ‘I will be ok… if get to put in my meditation, breathing, bath, journal, cook nice food, give myself some me time, breathe again, watch the roses grow and do yoga..twice… then ill be ok’ 

    ‘I will be ok……if’ 

    Because it’s a lie. 

    In his book ‘Living untethered’ (and also The Untethered Soul) Micheal Singer writes about how much of our lives are spend trying to avoid, navigate, deny or skirt around pain and challenges in our lives, so much that they dominate. So much so that we create a type of living in which the pain, the abuse, the darkness holds us in captive, and so we instead (I instead) would tell myself these little lies, the lies of conditional okayness. 

    Because I wasnt ok, I hoped and tried to will myself to be, but without facing the real pain, the real issues inside. I was temporarily ok….if my football team won, if I managed to get a good grade in an essay, if I could ride my bike…if , if, if, if… 

    I needed something to happen for me to have temporary ok-ness. 

    I needed something to cause me to feel a tiny bit ok. 

    I was requiring something other, to soothe… something inner. 

    I was needing ‘the world’ to fix/solve/soothe what was on the inside… without facing or dealing with the real issue. It was avoidant, I was avoidant, and yet ‘I will be ok..if’ is all around and so it was easy to go along with it… even if I was dying on the inside. 

    Because. If was depending on something to make me feel ok. Then I wasnt ok. 

    I was just in a cycle of it. 

    Being ok, needn’t be conditional. 

    It took me a very long while, at least 5 years of facing the stuff, journaling, listening to my emotions, giving myself time, safety, therapy, using the tools and having better self care routines, that helped me be in a better place. A place where I could trust myself a bit, a place where I was more aware of my sensitive nature, and awareness of the damage that had been done to me. (for more of this read my story here) . Yet, I was still trying to believe that I was ok. Yes I could relax, yes I was safe, but so much deep down, inside I was , and especially when I hit some low points, I would collapse and breakdown, which I did in 2023. 

    I knew I didnt believe in myself because the very thing that I needed, was the thing I criticised. Positive psychology. Thinking positively. Self affirmations.. yuk no no no. I can’t do that…it’s so Ammmerrican. It’s false, it’s ugh, no. 

    But I realised that my inner critic voice was still running the roost. Even with a lot of change. I still had ‘needs’ and ‘needed things’ to be ok. 

    I didn’t believe I was ok, not unconditionally ok. Self belief hung on a fragile string. 

    That little lie ‘ I will be ok…if……I change my job…if I write something…if I …..’ 

    And whilst im at it, ill not dwell on this here, but I might well have been told that ‘God loved me’ – but since that was also the belief of my abusive parent, and also church was a place I needed to belong, to be important, to be busy, to be intelligent, to know (and not feel) – two theology degrees later and a 22 year career working in faith groups in the UK… Unconditional Gods love, was lost in a kernel of conditional institutional performance and responsibility. It wasnt Gods fault. But too much pain and damage surrounded this heart, and so unconditional love or even unconditional ‘ok-ness’ was off the table. 

    So, it was easy to believe the lie. 

    I wasnt ok, and I was stuck in a cycle of believing that I would be one day ok…if…

    What I had to do was face the reality of myself, and my hurts, pains, defence mechanisms, sand strategies…and dig right deep, into the places of self loathing, self mistrust, self destruction… and find myself stronger, more loving, and more compassionate than all of them. 

    To start to rebuild a self that had been broken and tormented since birth. 

    To realise that ‘ I will be ok.. If’ 

    Was actually a lie. 

    Because the truth is something else. 

    The truth is not that I am ok. 

    The truth is that I just am. 

    Regardless of what happens. I still am. 

    Regardless of what I do… I am

    And in me there is love, and joy, and calm, and truth… 

    The funny thing is, in the last year or so I notice myself saying things like ‘I need ______’ or ‘if I buy _______ ill be ok’ – its almost as if its an unusual thing, to notice, to realise and then I check in with myself. 

    I dont need to believe that I am conditionally ok. 

    And neither do you. 

    But it’s a lie we’ve been often told to believe. 

    Because it keeps us trapped.