Next to me, the footsteps of people, passing by, their flow of movement, the chatter, the excitement, the practicality of voice, crossing roads, heading out, heading home, their movement a flow, to and from, each with different speeds, unless their hands beautifully held together, walking to the same rhythm.
And then the cars, in the space behind me, from many destinations, it was their engines, the acceleration, and brakes, from known places to other places. Carriages of metal, making their way, as they did so, I felt the air pressure change on my back, as larger cars, or trucks forced themselves through the cool air, and made themselves known.
Underneath me, the flow of water, gathering pace down stream, clear, greens underneath, awash with whispers of white waves, reflecting the sun, twinkling in the sun, water reaching for its sea destination, and on the way accommodating, inviting life to partake in the home it creates in its depths.
Flow, restless, never ending, from its origin, ultimately the heavens and back to it, via the mountains, the gulleys and heading out to sea.
Flowing underneath me. The river dancing its way in shimmers of glossy light, its flow controlled by volume, and directed by the land with which encases it, aside from later in its life downstream its force brings edges of soil and rock to their knees.
And as I stood, alive to the flow, the wind breathed its deceptively coldness, on this bright sun filled day. Origin unknown, destination, unknown, yet it made its presence real to me, the cold flow across the back of my arms, head and calves.
Wind, that breathes itself freedom, an unstoppable, untameable force, now creating power, yet as I stood, its cold flow caused shivers, its energy cool.
Underneath the river
Behind me the cars and people
Around me the wind
The Flow of life
That exact time, of a quartet of flows, never to be repeated.
And I, the watcher, the feeler, standing there.
Still.
A contrast to the flow.
Preventing in a minuscule way, particles of wind from finding their destination, affecting on me.
Flow of energy all around, life force mysterious, known and unknown combining in restless urgency, and creative power, nurturing life, and travelling through, each journeying. And I being.
What flow, circulates around me, invites me, where shall I go, how shall I flow, open, flying on the breeze, floating down the river, swimming up the stream, walking along predetermined concrete, free as the wind.
Where time is measured in wonder, and joy and creativity, partners in the dance.
And then, it was time.
Time to walk.
Alive to flow.
Alive to being Still, amidst it.
‘Stillness is the canvas against which movement can become beautiful’ (John O Donohue, Divine Beauty)
Have you worked out the Greatest Challenge in Life yet?
The easiest thing, is to be doing something. To be continually doing something. To be planning to be doing something is still doing something.
To be doing.
Last week I got over 40 ‘likes’ on a facebook post about something I had been ‘doing’ – 3 days of safeguarding training with the Methodist Church btw.
Doing something.
It may be physically impossible to ‘do nothing’ for an hour – our bodies have to breathe, our senses listen to the sounds from outside, or music playing, but what if being was valued more that doing?
What happens if you try and sit and ‘be’? What creeps in? – A task, a worry, a thought? A distraction – the voice that says ‘ you should be doing something’ ‘ dont be lazy’ ..its always a critical voice – and what I do when I hear that voice – sometimes give in, sometimes try and distract from that voice…by doing something… ugh, and so it continues.
And there’s no option for this when in the moment of survival in abuse, the mind is utterly active, and my body just wants to be active to compensate. Thats why I anxiety clean. Its why I needed EMDR to rewrite my brain, so I could sit.
But- back to this moment.
Here,
Now:
Sitting still, just for a moment.
The greatest challenge.
It takes a fight to sit and just be.
It takes courage to be.
To sit and breathe.
To listen.
Not just to the externals of some music or the sounds from outside- that are tempting to go and see
But listen to the noise of my internal breath
Listen to the sound, of quiet, of silence
And notice myself.
Just being.
How good are you at being? How are you in your being today?
What if I ‘just’ sit and be? and its not even just sitting, that makes it out to be something secondary, what if ‘being’ was valued and important, what if being me, being you was the ‘most’ important thing. What if it wasn’t a luxury to have a moments peace and quiet, but something valued, and treasured by all, and encouraged in each other. I could easily do a million and one other things, but the most important and difficult thing.
Just to be.
Realising the life in every breath. In every moment.
Giving your self time. Time for yourself.
Its not about getting off one rat race and finding another, but noticing the being inside. Bringing awareness to your very soul, and being, and heart. Its you that matters.
So just sit. And be.
Be with yourself for a while. Sense the life within. Sense you.
I realised this week that I’ve been able to breathe for 2 years now, these were the first two years I’d been able to breathe in my whole life
I remember when I walked into the flat 25 months ago and being emotional in front of the estate agent. Realising that this was going to be my space, my space to look after, my space to look after myself in, my space , haven, calm
My space, to make home. To light candles, listen to music, read, and enjoy life in my own pace.
My space to determine boundaries of what I listen to, read or who I allow in
My space to look forward to coming home to after leaving it
My safe space
I can breathe
Stop and slow down
41 years of emotionally abusive home space, with 2 in-between of working/living in houses with gap year teams, with me being the ‘responsible’ one
2 years of being able to breathe
2 years of being enough, 2 years of listening to my heart, 2 years of not having to revolve around the often crazy unpredictable needs of others, 2 years of being just me.
2 years of healing from the 41 years previously
2 years of starting to see
Healing requires time, safety and connection, and in the process, self determination to make decisions, take control, for me about putting myself first, making decisions for my own good.
It makes me stop and realise quite how unhealthy places are when breathing isn’t possible. When eggshells are the only floor covering and avoiding fighting or fawning conflict is the only reality. That’s not to mention lies and gaslighting, and trying to constantly work out who the crazy one is.
It’s worth saying here, if you’re the one creating eggshells for others in your relationships, or family, through manipulation, control, bullying and neediness then maybe decide to give it up. You can change. Problem is, that you’re unlikely to read this. But…
If you’re not breathing you’re not living, you’re just surviving. I was just surviving all my life. Ignoring every attempt of my heart to make itself known. Just surviving. Bouncing from one crisis to another. Fawning over the needy anger of toxicity.
Breathing for 2 years, learning to be me. Realising who ‘me’ is.
As I write I’m on holiday, camping in the rain, and up to now, my few holidays have been busy ones, climbing, walking, city breaks, and I’ve filled my days. Today I’ve tried to do what I am learning to do in my home. To stop and enjoy a ‘doing nothing’ day.
Yes I’ve walked a short distance,but no rushing for trains , or climbing hills, just a short meander to the village a walk by the river and now just time reflecting on it as I write this, in a tent in the rain.
In the past I realised that I struggle to slow down, in the last two years I’ve realised quite how much I’m able to slow down.
Business was my ongoing distraction. Busy work, busy hobbies, busy. It’s no wonder that I’d wait to get ill during Christmas holidays only, when I had the time and my body relaxed. This was the pattern since childhood.
Learning to slow down
2 years of being in and feeling like being home.
Safe
Rest
Breathe
I’m sure I have more healing to do, as more layers are uncovered, as I listen more to my inner child, as I draw, write and play. But for now, a mark to note two years of being able to breathe, and feel new life, growth and change.
Thank you to all friends and family alike in their support and encouragement to me in these last 2-3 years, and to Christelle whose healing, loving kindness is a joy
You must control your mind Harry, don’t let Voldemort find his way in to control you
That was one of the main weapons that Voldemort used to control Harry. He got into his dreams, he got into his mind. He set up scenarios so that Harry would jump to the rescue to be the hero.
It was a battle that Dumbledore, Snape, Ron and Hermione tried to encourage Harry to put a stop too in most of the last 3 Books.
Control your mind Harry.
Control it. Dont let him in.
Dealing with an abuser is a battle of the mind.
They torment dreams. At unlikely moments cause pain in the forehead, the ears, the mind.
Shock. Terror. Fear. Shame. Guilt.
Harry had to try, and was largely unsuccessful in controlling his mind.
When we’ve been in traumatic incidents our minds are affected. Fragmented, Damaged.
We also over think the situation. At least I have done in the past. Mind not stopping. Its as if the abuser wants to keep that part of us guessing. Keep that part of us moving all the time. Second guessing their behaviour. Relaying the wound of a previous torment back into our bodies, adrenaline. Vigilance. Scared.
Control your mind Harry.
When we’re over thinking…how are you breathing? How am I breathing..what have I noticed? I stopped breathing, I need to start..but..slowly…
What else do I notice?
I can’t think straight…I cant think of the possibilities..Im in fear, terror, react, fight, flight, freeze response… I cant breathe..
You must Control your mind Harry….
Dont let Voldemort in….
But then something strange happens.
Gradually, as Harry works out the patterns, Gradually as Harry works out Voldemorts weaknesses, Gradually the game shifts.
Harry deliberately opens his mind. Because thats where Voldemort reveals himself. Thats where Harry can see what he is up too. The power shifts.
Harry has the power, in his mind.
He has worked out the patterns, Harry is stronger, Harry isn’t reactive, that which Harry has been abused by, is what Harry uses to assume control and power. He sees it and Voldemort for what he is. Harry has also learned not to react immediately. Hermione slows him down.
Once we see the same patterns of our abusers we can see the way out. They have, largely the same patterns. They often rely on our immediate responses, responses out of fear, guilt or shame. Most of the time no response, or no, will reveal them for who they are. Patterns like DARVO for one, and The Drama Triangle.
My mind used to be all over the place, but thats how I dealt with what I was going through, by not dealing with it. Shut everything off, but only keep the mind open. Full time concentration. It has only since I have been in a safe place where I have relaxed, and realised I dont have to concentrate all the time. What I have also realised and am learning is how to respond to the infrequent emotionally immature communications from the abusers. Sometimes I think it would be better to block them, cut them off at source, other times, like Harry , it could just be important to be able to keep an eye on them, especially if other people might be in danger because of them.
I love how the power shifts in that last Harry Potter book, revealing to us all what it takes to have power over those who we have been terrified of. It starts with being more self aware, slowing down, and realising that we dont have to respond, crucially also Harry found this more able to do in places where he was safe. Surrounded by those who love and support him and also in safe distance. When we change. When we see. We see something different. We see that we have power.
James Ballantyne 