James Ballantyne

Tag: emotional health

  • Realising; I am not my mind (but try telling my thoughts that!)

    I am really so so very grateful for my mind.

    Like extremely so.

    It’s a place of learning, a place of processing, a place of interpreting, a place to understand.

    It has also been my place of safety, or maybe more so my place of escape to.

    When emotions and feelings were unsafe, and love was absent, I could hide in my mind.

    Read books. Study. Play maths games. Keep thinking.

    And when I was cold, use my mind as a superpower to block the pain.

    And when I was about to be hurt, use my mind to numb the pain.

    Mind was a shield.

    I gave my mind too much to do…. yet actually it was a survival mechanism. I could get through things, because I didnt need to feel them, just think.

    Yet there’s also social conditioning, the mind has value, in academia, and religious life – learn, reflect, be curious…and I could just keep going, one more book to buy, one more hobby to try, one more thing to learn.

    Keep the mind busy, keep the time occupied, keep the demons at bay…

    And I sit here writing this in the local Waterstones cafe… a place of learning has been a safe place for me.

    And there’s words here too aren’t there.

    You are reading them.

    And I am thinking about what I might write next.

    Because I was afraid.

    I was afraid of what would happen….. if for the first time in 40 odd years I would stop thinking, or at least there be a gap in thoughts…

    My mind as a place of survival could only do so much of a job. It was incessant.

    But overthinking felt normal, overthinking to find strategies to reduce pain, soothe, to please, to soften the blows, or numb them.

    So I would negate anything that tried to interrupt this, dont give me the promise of silence, solitude, meditation or even quietly colouring in something, or even space to have someone ask me difficult questions. My mind couldn’t allow this. It was afraid of not being in charge. It was afraid of what it might expose.

    My mind wasnt negative or destructive, it was just doing its job in the way it had subconsciously been asked to do, and beyond its skill set.

    And there was no distinction for me, between my I and my mind.

    Spiritually/ Religiously I gave my mind a ‘gets off scot free’ card – because my heart usually got the blame, as did the self. There’s something else here too, my mind accepted the reality that what was inside me was too shameful to expose, the hurt and pain too great. Accepted because it had tried many moral ways of dealing with it, all failed, and the cycle of shame and self loathing continued.

    But also, my minds job was to numb, distract, run, avoid the pain, and protect myself. And it did a good job.

    It wasnt equipped to love. And its love that heals.

    As I began, forcibly, to start a journey inwards, my mind took on a new task. To learn about myself as if I am my own new hobby or project, as well as learn about the behaviours that I had been exposed to.

    This.. very accurate…

    So that library of self help books, from Enneagram, to Narcissism, to Spirituality, got bigger and bigger, as I understand myself though a number of thought lenses. All extremely useful.

    But it wasnt thinking that would heal.

    It wasnt thinking my feelings, or understanding myself that would heal.

    Ugh.

    I actually had to the exercises in the books, I had to participate in them. I had to feel.

    I look now and see quite how much i had given my mind to do, I was a disconnected, disintegrated body, with an overactive mind, with all the voices of protection, fear, self criticism, perfection.

    Healing my mind, required safety.

    Healing my mind, required love

    Healing my mind, required heart…and heart to be safe

    Healing my mind, meant seeing it and realising that I am not it

    Healing my mind, meant listening to it, loving it, carefully, gently…

    Being compassionate on my self critical, self loathing, self soothing parts, scared self..in my mind… and start to not believe these, even if they had been protecting me.

    Yet it can easily still want to take charge in situations, easily take me into its formerly welcome gaze, sometimes those thoughts come back, further opportunities to love them, and the wounded parts they stem from.

    One of the parts of my inner journey and healing has been to allow my mind to relax and know it doesn’t have to be responsible for everything in my psyche, that I have heart, soul, feelings, that there is space and consciousness. It’s a slow revealing, it’s a daily remembrance.

    My inner journey has been inside, beyond the cage of my mind, and letting the colours of the heart, and the soul to ignite, cleanse and transform.

    The realisation that I am not my mind, and am trying to keep telling my thoughts that…

  • I needed in me, what God used to be.

    Those of you who have followed my writing for a while have either read or endured a few pieces from me about my faith, notably my evangelical upbringing and also more recently my stepping back from going to church.

    Trying to survive after falling off the evangelical cliff

    1000 Days since I last went to church (as of December 2022)

    Add to this my story of survival with in an ‘evangelical’ home with a monster of a parent.

    So, Relationship with God: Its Complicated.

    At least, what I’m beginning to realise and see is how emotionally complicated my relationship with God (and the church) was, and that is all written above.

    Yet, at the same time, I dont think ive really had a process though my various breakdowns, rebuilds and healing journey of being angry with God, there wasn’t a sense of ”Why?’ God did you let this or that happen’ not recently; I had internalised personal responsibility, having taken that on implicitly as the little rescuer of my parents emotions, and then becoming a christian aged 10 in which somehow I implicitly then gave Jesus my ‘Sin’ (which were survival strategies) and for forgiveness for them. I wasn’t sinful aged 10, yet this was the pattern I then implicitly believed in. This is appropriate here:

    It’s been more of a gradual shift.

    Mainly because over the last few years I have realised that there was good and well meant good in the community of many of the churches I have been involved and and certainly the church of my teenage years, and tbh many of them were as scared of or had experience of the same monster. (Except the ‘old dears’ , the ‘old dears’ would have had special visits by them, having been ‘popped around to be seen’ and so, the ‘old dears’ every week at church would be like ‘How are they, how are your parents’ . It was a lovely first question as a young person to face in church. For some reason it was old people in churches who they gravitated to, to be ‘helpful’ and ‘charming’.)

    Anyway. I digress. 2 paragraphs in and a pre-amble and I’m no-where, where I thought I would be.

    I have began to notice something.

    The things I needed for myself, were things that I ascribed to God for.

    Here are a few examples from well known evangelical songs from the 1990’s…

    1. Jesus is Alive (mostly on Easter Day)
    2. God is Strong (You are mighty/ Our God is an awesome God)
    3. God is love (various)
    4. God is Powerful (There is power in the name of Jesus, Show your power)
    5. God is in or is the quiet space (Be still, The Lords my shepherd)
    6. God is the place of Joy (The Happy song)
    7. God is the exclusive way to hope and healing (In Christ alone)
    8. I trust in God alone
    9. I found Jesus

    Im definitely not here to say that these things aren’t true.

    But what I have realised is that by ascribing to God for these things, these were not things that I felt I could be, they were the what God can do and be, and not what I could do, be or have. I know this sounds complicated.

    I have discovered that I have needed to know my own Power and Strength, that I can have healthy power, and not stay weak.

    I needed to find myself, not wait to be found, or look for something other.

    I have discovered that I have needed to find my own capacity to love, for self love, compassion and self gentleness, not sink in the swamp of self loathing.

    I have discovered that I have needed to find safety as an important part of everyday , to heal.

    I needed to be able to trust myself (not my mind)

    I have discovered that I can be alive and joyful.

    I have discovered too how my inner self is both spiritual and creative, that tender person within, that needed nature and care and attention.

    These have all been important components of my healing process over the last 5 years. For too long I believed that these were only possible ‘because of God’ and therefore ‘unattainable for myself’, or that ‘I could carry on, or suffer without them for myself’. I dont think that these were the intentions of the song writers by the way. The other thing of complication is that the same powerful God was also the God of those who were and had harmed me – so whose side was he/she on?

    I am at peace in using different language, it feels right and whole to me to talk about ‘the gifts of the universe’ or ‘love’ or ‘magic’ and to feel the earth, the sea and the waves, to wonder at ‘consciousness’ and ‘being’ , to be still in the present of the moment and seek alignment to the deep truths. Maybe it’s the language of the heart and soul. Maybe it’s the innocent faith of the child, the inner child, and not the rules of the organisation. Maybe it’s the language of the mystics. Maybe it is just language that describes very similar things but with different agreements and expectations upon them. Maybe I decided I prefer or need or enjoy different agreements and expectations. Maybe the gentle attentive love of the Celtic contemplatives has spoken, restored and awakened my soul. Maybe these gave me the assurance of peacefilled mystic giants whose earnest shoulders I could sit on and be held by.

    I didnt wrestle with God, it all just awakened for me, it just started to appear, moment by moment, book by book, journal by journal (that I wrote). It started to make sense, it started to feel like love that until then had been mostly only cognitive knowledge. Maybe emotional breakdown and spiritual awakening were intertwined. Maybe it was about unlearning and learning. Maybe it was already there all along.

    I noticed that I was becoming more and more whole, more and more coherent in myself, less fractured and fragmented, less desperate in need of a God to save me, more balanced in knowing, loving and enjoying my flawed, but created and incredible self.

    So more broadly. Maybe it’s time to rethink the way of christian songs, or the implicit messages from the lecturn. Maybe a trauma aware church might reflect on these things. What if loving our self, was what Jesus meant all along, and not just our neighbour. What might life in all its fullness mean, and the good shepherd leads sheep to come and go freely. Maybe the sheep dance too. Maybe they play and run around. Maybe the sheep are happy. Maybe thats what’s its been about all along.

    May all that is unforgiven in you, be released

    May your fears yield, their deepest tranquilities

    May all that is unlived in you

    Blossom into a future

    Graced with love

    (To Come home to yourself, John O Donohue)

  • My Heart was wounded, not cold and dark. (Why faith language can hinder healing)

    I attended my first ‘religious’ service for quite a long time yesterday, I haven’t gone to ‘church’ for a long while, though I used to, weekly. But yesterday in my team meeting, as I work for the methodist church, we shared communion. A number of the team brought something to share, including songs, poems and prayers, and we used the Celtic Daily Prayer liturgy, including, because it was the 1st February the reflections of St Brigid. It was a genuine moving experience, because it felt as though we were all spiritually and theologically in a very similar place, it was gentle, provocative and deep, reflective and peaceful.

    Yet in the context of my inner healing journey, two phrases stood out.

    I make the cross of Christ upon my breast

    over the tablet of my hard heart

    and I beseech the living God of the Universe,

    may the Light of lights come to my dark heart

    so that I may live in the power of your love.

    Celtic Daily Prayer, Vol 1

    The phrase stood out, because, it was what I believed.

    I believed my heart to be dark. To be hard.

    I believed that my core was full of selfishness, hatred and impurity

    I believed that

    I believed that for far too long.

    I believed it so that I needed a Saviour.

    But let me be fair on this one. Maybe this liturgy was written at a time when heart just meant ‘everything inside’ , and not ‘heart’ full of emotions and feelings, distinct from the mind. Maybe it was written from ignorance of ‘heart’ and not deliberation. Maybe, it was written by the powerful, who might struggle to open up their heart, and felt like a modern day Pharaoh (who it was said closed his heart/God closed it so that Moses had to return many times to let the Israelite slaves free). Maybe the ‘heart’ was something at the time of writing was misunderstood, maybe heart feelings/emotions was seen genuinely as dark – can I include a witchcraft reference here, for 1600’s Britain was rife with ‘sensitives’ or women deemed as witches who ‘sensed’ things. So the ‘heart’ could be feared, but it’s almost talking about cleansing a dark one, not calming a fired up one. Im just pondering. And I love the northumbria community, and contemplative practice.

    Yet the Evangelical christian faith I grew up with was full of the dark heart stuff…

    ‘Dont let my heart grow cold’

    ‘Purify my heart’ 

    And I get that there might be different/newer understandings of the relationship between our minds and hearts, our feelings, emotions and thoughts. I’ll reference a few TED talks below and other references are in my resource library. This is one of the best, by Lisa Feldman 

    There’s so many angles on this ‘dark heart narrative’ that I could reflect on, here are 4, briefly…

    1. It lets our minds off scot free. Maybe the mind was seen as neutral, as dominant and unquestioned, the ‘heart’ can get the blame. The Heart may be hardened, and unable to feel, because the mind is making too much noise. It is the mind and its search for satisfaction for its thirsty ego that causes the most damage.
    2. It causes us have less reverence for our inner workings and body. As many Spiritual people and mystic argue, spiritual awakening is through the body and not away from it (Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now), not outside of the body or in denial of it. It’s unlikely to produce wholeness and a fragmented/fractured sense of self and body.
    3. It individualises the problem (if only I can get my hard heart to open/be more faithful/pray more/ do more church) rather than consider the external causes of these, and the body’s natural responses such in its need for self protection and survival. ‘It’s my cold/hard heart thats the problem, not the actual reality that ive been mistreated’ - an understanding of external stimuli/trauma here might be helpful.
    4. Only God can save. Because my heart is so hard that there’s nothing in it to be able to love/care for myself… how does this marry up with being ‘wonderfully made in the image of God?’ Where is my heart then?
    5. A heart is the source of emotions and feelings, which make us who we are, denying or hiding these is so so unhealthy.

    There could be essays on all of these, and thats not for now.

    My journey of healing, spiritually and emotionally has been a process of healing my inner self, including my body, and its wounded parts. Its been a journey in which, spiritually I have found the descriptions of the spiritual life, in Eckhart Tolle, Richard Rohr and John O Donohue to resonate deeply, and all take the body, the heart and the mind seriously and kindly in the process.

    My heart wasn’t impure, dark or hard all along.

    In fact, I needed my heart to be able to be self compassionate

    I needed a heart to love, myself

    I could love and care for myself

    My heart just couldn’t feel

    My heart had been stolen from

    My heart had been broken

    My heart had been wounded from birth

    My heart had never been nurtured or protected, it had never been loved.

    My heart had to be protected, sealed and enclosed – to protect myself

    My heart wasn’t dark, it was there all along – being told that it was.

    My heart could love and heal – as can yours

    My heart just wanted to feel, to be healthy, to be part of me – just like yours does

    My heart wanted safety to cry, feel and rage – just like yours

    My heart was never dark.

    It had had its flame squashed and buried

    It was hiding underneath

    It was screaming

    It wasn’t ever dark – it was love all along.

    It was me.

    I had to begin the process of peeling gently back the layers and wounds, and I could only do that gently because of love and my heart. I had to learn to love my body, my heart and create safety for my feelings. Listening to my heart, listening to my core and what it needs. None of this would have been possible had I continued the pattern of believing I was broken and my heart was core to that brokenness.

    May you be blessed with good friends

    And you learn to be a good friend to yourself

    Journeying to that place in your soul where

    there is love, warmth and feeling

    May this change you

    John O Donohue, ‘For Friendship’; To Bless the space between us

  • Practicing Safe Sensitivity.

    Google ‘Sensitive’ and what do you find?

    (especially in the images).

    I love both Elaine Arun and Hannah Jane Walkers books on Sensitivity – but – in the main who are their key audiences and examples?

    Hannahs book is wonderful by the way, yet in the main the conversation about sensitivity centres around herself, her sisters and her mother in the first few chapters, about how women nature sensitivity in other women. It is beautiful, their stories and very heartful. Actually I would go as far as reading this book was an awakening spiritual experience for me, self love in a self help book.

    Sensitivity barely features in a search of TED talk titles. (but Introvert does)

    Sensitive and male as a search on You Tube highlights a type of sensitivity and not necessarily of the emotional sort.

    So:

    Whilst it’s said that 15-20% of everyone would be considered sensitive, or highly sensitive. There isn’t much of a conversation about sensitivity and being male. I wouldn’t expect it given the author and her experiences.

    There’s a lack of ‘ways’ in for Men to access this topic.

    So let’s continue to have it.

    What’s it like growing up male and sensitive with a male parent who either dismiss, ignore or reject their own, and thus your sensitivity?

    What’s it like growing up male and sensitive and having a female parent who similarly either dismiss, ignore or reject their own sensitivity, and thus your own?

    What’s it’s like having your own emotions stolen as a boy to feed other peoples emotional needs?

    What glimpses are there that you were a sensitive boy, and what happened when you expressed these? or… what steps did you take to hide them, or pretend that you were otherwise.

    What has been the effect on you by hiding this part of you?

    I laugh now. I got into a ‘fight’ once. It was my last day of primary school , aged 11, and it was one of those glorious warm hot June days where we could play football on the ‘rec’ (recreation ground) instead of the concrete of the enclosed school playground. I won’t name the other person, but they had been a friend for a while, and lived not far from me.

    I was playing ‘in goal’ and this person was deciding to stand on the goal line, I dont remember if he was even playing the match, maybe he wasn’t and was being annoying, I remember not.

    I had heard enough messages about ‘toughening up’ , about standing up for myself. This was my chance, so I thought, to prove myself. T prove to myself that I wasn’t as weak, timid or shy anymore.

    I don’t remember how the incident continued, my feeble attempt to be ‘brave’ probably involved pushing him out of the way, did I raise my fists? I don’t remember, though I remember getting one back. I think I ended primary school with either a black eye or bloody nose, and only the realisation that trying to physically injure anyone felt so weirdly disconnected, my arms/body didn’t work like that, and I felt pretty rubbish about it.

    Trying to prove to myself that I was tough, not weak and not going to let someone else annoy me. Step 1 – ends in embarrassment… oh and the temporary loss of friendship. A year later we spoke again and we’re friends again.

    I guess it’s a glimpse for me. Of how trying to be tough has felt uncomfortable. And also of the damage of hiding sensitivity.

    It was the 1980’s, I get it. There wasnt talk of emotional health and wellbeing in schools at that time, or anywhere else.

    Described as perceptive and contentious by my teachers – a key indication of sensitivity – neither of these things were valued or nurtured.

    So, im just wondering, where does sensitivity play a part in our daily lives – yet we wouldn’t use ‘the S’ word to describe it

    Because as Ted Zeff describes below, the men who recognised and realised their sensitivity could share how it was positive for them in their workplaces, relationships and social lives. (there are other vids on YT on this subject, do give them a watch)

    But he also describes how a more ‘Western Culture’ , UK to a lesser extent and North American more so, there are cultural challenges in admitting being sensitive.

    If the ‘S’ word is a big ‘no-no’ what gets used instead?

    ‘Social Skills’

    ‘Adaptability and flexibility’

    ‘Good with change’

    ‘Receptive to client needs’

    ‘Hard working’

    ‘Team Player’

    Someone who might be good with people, good with animals – might be highly sensitive, as might someone who has deep friendships and is upset if these are rocky. But someone who has friends is valued – even if their sensitivity to emotional needs might not be.

    We might not like the ‘S’ word – but the outward traits of the person, the man with sensitivity is valued…. some of the time.

    Did you notice what I noticed at the beginning of that video above?

    That there’s research that suggests that up until the age of 5 boys are more sensitive and aware than girls, yet by the age of 5 most of these emotions have been diminished in a boy, except for anger, the only emotion a man is socially permitted to express.

    Where does that even leave that boy who is told off for expressing anger? or in a culture (a christian one) where anger is deemed sinful? (and I realise this is not just men) but saying. Where does a boy go to hide so that they can be safely sensitive?

    Did you have a space for this?

    It’s not that as a boy I wasn’t sensitive, I just had to hide it, especially where it wasn’t safe. On other occasions, my sensitivity enabled me to be safe in an emotionally abusive home, as I could tend to the emotional needs of others.

    Like so many things in our emotional make up, and the reality of the trauma many of us have faced, acceptance leads to growth, denial hides protects and is afraid. There’s everything courageous about accepting sensitivity.

    Unsure if you’re sensitive? Do have a read of this

    Do share your experiences below in the comments, id love to hear. If you have a resource on this and want to share it with others do link it below too. If youd like to support me in my writing, you can do so here, Thank you for reading.

  • 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.

  • Christmas and the Feels.

    Just stopping by on the beginning of Christmas week 2022, in the midst of me getting ready to cook some food for my son and his girlfriend, and then as I travel on trains tomorrow and planes on Wednesday to be with my beautiful wife Christelle for Christmas.

    A moment of calm. Nat King Cole is playing. The Christmas lights and candles are glowing. Apple and Cinnamon scent is wafting around, presents have been wrapped and its a moment to breathe.

    A moment to notice.

    A moment to appreciate feeling safe. A moment to appreciate feeling love. A moment to be thankful, to be grateful. A moment to feel, and notice that moments like this, gaps, are not to be frightened of anymore. Its these cracks where love washes in.

    Its 4.30pm and its not been all like this all day. Ive carried a pre Christmas and travel to do list around in my head all day, whilst also being at work for the last day. But now, having scurried around a bit for the day, Im having just a moment of me time.

    Breathing slowly. Noticing the light of the candle. Feeling.

    Realising too, the effort its taken, the effort Ive taken to get to where I am, this year. A lot has been happening. There’s been some dark moments of reliving trauma, abuse and suffering. There’s been times of facing my own complex vulnerabilities, of embracing what’s its meant by being self compassionate, of enjoying receiving, of making choices about responding to what I’m actually feeling day by day.

    So I sit here, feeling a sense of love for myself, acceptance of myself, and feeling relaxed as I take one then another breath. Grateful for the vulnerable giants whose own shared lives have inspired, encouraged and caused me to dig deep into my own heart, power and strength, Brene Brown, Gary Zukav, Paulo Coelho, Edith Eger, Matt Haig, your life story, your fictions and your insight is truly transformative. The therapists in person, and the therapy groups on Facebook – there’s many a time you have struck a chord and enabled me to come face to face with a new reality, so thank you, North Brisbane Psychotherapists, Dr Glenn Patrick Doyle, Mike Philips and Patrick Weaver Ministries. Thank you.

    But Christmas.

    Somehow as I sit here and in conversation with Christelle, we shared about how this time can be a weird one for those of us rebuilding our lives after childhood trauma. Weird in that kind of way of noticing, facing, and accepting the moments that aren’t so apparent in April , June or September. Pain in a Christmas movie can be about grief for the much loved parent who isn’t around – rarely one who was abusive. (yes I know, no one wants that Christmas movie)

    Christmas time gives opportunities for continued self love, tenderness and self- compassion.

    Know that its ok to feel whatever Christmas feels for you. Feel that mystery of love deep within your wounded heart and soul. Neither I, neither you are the pain or shame.

    May I share with you this blessing, as a gift, from John O Donohue, as I also say thank you, and do have a truly restful, calm, loving, heartfelt, self compassionate Christmas.

    A Prayer for the Awakened:

    For Everything under the Sun, there is a time, This is the season of your harvest awakening, where pain takes you where you would rather not go.

    Through the white curtain of yesterdays to a place you had forgotten you knew from the Inside out, And a time when that bitter tree was planted.

    That has grown always invisibly beside you, and whose branches your awakened hands, now long to disentangle from your heart.

    You are coming to see how your looking often darkened, When you should have felt safe enough to fall towards love; How deep down your eyes were always owned by something.

    That faced them through a dark fester of thorns, Converting whoever came into a further figure of the wrong, You could only see what touched you as already torn.

    Now the act of seeing begins your work of mourning, and your memory is ready to show you everything, having waited all these years for you to return and know.

    Only you know where the casket of pain is interred, You will have to scare through all the layers of covering, And according to your readiness, everything will open.

    May you be blessed with a wise and compassionate guide, Who can accompany you through the fear and grief, until your heart has wept its way to your true self.

    As your tears fall over that wounded place,

    May they wash away the hurt and free your heart

    May your forgiveness still – the hunger of the wound

    So that for the first time you can walk away from that place, Reunited with your banished heart, now healed and freed

    And feel the clear, free air bless your new face

    For Someone Awakening to the Trauma of their past – John O Donohue

    Be Still friends, and Know that you are love – Happy Christmas to you

    James

  • Wounds like Eyes

    If the process of healing is like an onion

    One layer of tears at a time
    One more step towards the core

    Then wounds are like eyes

    They hurt when stung

    They are the raw, vulnerable awakening

    Of pain needing more work

    Raw exposed and seen

    Wound of black hurt

    The pupil, the dark eye in the middle

    A wound of pain surrounded by levels of anger, grief, torment, fear and betrayal

    Like an eye

    Today has been a wound day, completely unexpectedly

    A trigger went deep

    Rawness to the surface

    Yet it helped me to see

    To look at the pain again

    And see, that I am not the pain

    That i am powerful

    That I am safe

    That I am loved

    And I am not in that place

    Somehow for me, wounds help me to see

    Help me to feel, a reminder to continue to be the new me

    Wounds help me to see

    See me for me now

    See what I need

    Wounds like eyes.

  • Developing internal commitments to myself

    I have stood and made a number of commitments to others.

    Commitments to workplace ideals and agreements

    Commitments to the terms and conditions of a large purchase

    Commitments to the planet as I have tried at times to reduce my carboin footprint, buy organic or grow my own

    Commitments to others in relationships.

    Commitments to a God, recommitments on a regular teenage basis

    Commitments as new year resolutions? – what have they been like for you?

    Whats been the biggest struggle for me in terms of commitment?

    Commitment to myself

    In all my existence, I have only notionally given any thought to making commitments to myself.

    There was the time when I was 40 when I decided to do more exercise before my 40th Birthday, and cut down alcohol and reduce food.

    It still felt like an external change. Even if my body did appreciate it at the time.

    I barely gave any thought to myself. I barely could.

    I had been conditioned to think that to think of myself was selfish

    I had been conditioned to revolve emotionally around others

    I had such an aching emptiness inside that I thought ‘helping others’ was what brought be me joy.

    So what could I commit to myself?

    External things, like food, exercise and bodily health. Not unimportant.

    It wasn’t in balance.

    I wouldn’t say I was selfless, though I was at times accused of being selfish for even considering that I had needs.

    And I poured out from a completely empty vessel. Because that was exactly what I was used to being.

    Neglected and empty, and used to it.

    Don’t get me wrong it wasnt that I rejected self-care because I thought it was worthless – though I acknowledge that in the past I may have scoffed a projection of what worth it might do – that was just my defensive survival talk speaking. Why bother with self care – I’ve managed without it? Id rather just tell others about it.

    And that’s it isn’t it; before being able to commit to myself, before being able to protect myself, before being able to listen to myself

    I had to acknowledge myself

    I had to start to recognise that I had a self worth valuing

    Some of that started with getting to know myself – self knowledge

    Continuing with the ‘feeling of feelings’ ,

    and over the course of the last 3-4 years being on a path of self acceptance, self knowledge, self awareness to where I am now, which again is in a process of therapy, and also finishing a counselling course – and reading books on self understanding

    What I began without realising it was a path of deep self discovery, a path of rebelling my external intelligence, with internal intelligence too

    What might it look like to make commitments to myself, as I am now?

    A commitment to personal growth? A commitment to ongoing spiritual and emotional growth?

    Committing myself to thinking positively of myself

    A commitment to love myself, including the parts of me that have been hidden or frightened?

    A commitment to accept raw and vulnerability as part of the process of rebuilding

    A commitment to keep listening to myself, my inner voice, my spiritual child within?

    A commitment to prioritise myself maybe?

    A commitment to value being present perhaps?

    A commitment to the slow, and not the fast? The slow rebuild….

    A commitment to not give everything away? (NB – I have written a lot in the last 4 weeks, and its not for you here)

    In Gary Zukavs book ‘Spiritual Partnership’ he outlines five commitments for his own spiritual and emotional growth, which have inspired me to think about commitment; his are;

    1. Focus on what I can learn about myself
    2. Pay attention to my emotions
    3. Pay attention to my thoughts
    4. Pay attention to my intention

    I reflect on my own journey. From denial of myself, to understanding and acceptance of myself, to loving myself – yes its taken a while, yes its not been without tears and revelations of my own responsibilities, behaviour and choices, and also my life survival requirements – but to be in a position of even considering making commitments to myself, for my own sake, for my own well being. How might I pledge these 5 things for myself – and what difference will it continue to make, for me, and others around me, such as Christelle, my kids, family, work…?

    So I ask – what commitments have you made to prioritise your own spiritual and emotional self?

    Not ideals, but self pledges, self determination, to stay as real, the best I and you can be – what might it be for you?