James Ballantyne

Tag: feelings

  • It all started with a Goldfinch…

    It started with a goldfinch, making its pearl like chirping from the tree, just outside St Cuthbert’s Church, Darlington.

    Ordinary Goldfinch.

    Making me take notice at it.

    And ended with a Bumble bee scrambling for the pollen in the blossom in the trees opposite.

    And in between that distance of less than 10 metres, I walked. Slowly.

    No deadlines. No expectation. No Time.

    Slow Wonder Walking.

    Following the path along the river Skerne.

    Slow, almost the same pace as the river itself.

    Could I see the otters? Maybe.

    Walk slow. Notice

    Everyday wonder in the midst of the ordinary.

    The bee springing from the nettles

    The wren launching itself from the base of the tree trunk to a branch then shouting at me in its loud voice.

    The Dogs that didnt give me dog hugs. The Owners that smiled when they didnt.

    Slow step.

    Surprise after Surprise.

    Unexpected red breasted Merganser. Female, on her own.

    Grey Wagtails, fluttering their uniquely yellow underbellies.

    The joyful playful shriek of the girl toddler running away from her pretend chasing daddy, squealing and playing with utter delight. Her all black romper suit covered in a myriad of rainbow hearts. Joy.

    I wondered that I used to run, run away, or need to go fast.

    But now slow.

    Contented slowness.

    Embracing peace.

    Shades. Streaks of sunlight.

    Slow walking

    When we walk slow, we give the opportunity for a new person to grow inside of us

    Paulo Coelho

    Who is that person?

    That same joyous toddler full of curiosity and play

    Probably

    Sounds of play

    Sounds of nature

    The inner feelings of bliss

    Some kind of bliss

    Some kind of calm

    Rest.

    Bridge.

    Wonder at reflections.

    Watch the water ripple, make them fuzzy

    Watch and wonder.

    Stare.

    Be.

    In the moment, of accepting the magic of the ordinary.

    10 minutes of staring at willow branches fluttering in the water.

    interrupted by the joy of pooh sticks.

    Wonder, magic, delight of floating sticks.

    And beating grandpa.

    Boy running. Boy in wonder.

    Wonder.

    Awe.

    Everything is magic.

    Everything is open.

    Slow.

    Walking, back the same way.

    Temptation to think, ive been here before, must go some other route

    But I haven’t, I haven’t been there in this moment.

    “Always we have to look, Today suddenly a flower is the reason for your surprise, tomorrow it may be the same flower, just with a different colour, because of the age of the flower”

    Paulo Freire

    Resist the urge to need to go somewhere new, do the same, do it slow again

    I am 20 minutes older. Inside. Or Younger. How does this new person feel time

    It just is.

    Feeling its way in the moment.

    Though suddenly…

    Oh look what’s this, a thought, a thought about tomorrow, a thought about something I need to do and suddenly, my feet have grinded up a gear…. subconscious speeding up,

    Lost from the moment, into thought.

    Noticed.

    I saw you.

    I saw you thought.

    But I am here.

    And I stopped you.

    Because you are not for now.

    This is now.

    Wonder is now

    Slow is now.

    So I made you stop. For now is wonder time.

    And those dancing grey wagtails captivated once again

    And the gold crest in the tree

    The couples with their beautiful babies in pushchairs, all full of life and energy

    Noticing the joy.

    Noticing my feet slowly placing one foot in front of the other.

    feeling. Breathing. Heart filled with joy.

    That new person finding life

    That new person safe in wonder

    Smiling, arms outstretched

    Whistling Heaven.

    When I walk among the hills.

    Walking slow.

    Walking in wonder.

    Awakening.

    In the moment.

    Seeing in the midst, glory in the everyday.

    Timeless unbridled joy.

    Being fully alive.

    Peace from within.

    Return to the town.

    Slow. (but slightly quicker crossing the road)

    Calm.

    Bliss.

    An avenue of blossom, beauty amongst buildings.

    It all started with a Goldfinch.

    It ended with a bumblebee.

    A blissful walk that went nowhere, but everywhere in between.

    Wonder at Wonder. Awe is something awesome.

    Some kindness of bliss.

    Wordless, thoughtless, timeless.

    “What remains will be the love that moves the heavens, the stars, people, flowers, insects, the love that obliges us all to walk across the ice despite the danger, that fills us with joy and with fear, and gives meaning to everything.”

    Paulo Coelho

  • From Breaking to Awakening.

    Awakening:

    Comes, from

    Breakening,

    Surrendering,

    Feeling,

    Shouting,

    Raging,

    Crying,

    Shaking,

    Hurting,

    Fearing,

    Swearing,

    Grieving ,

    Hurting,

    Confusing,

    Darkening,

    Spiralling,

    down down down….

    further, down…

    Until:

    Then…waiting…

    Silencing,

    Listening,

    Remembering,

    Resetting,

    Knowing ,

    Singing,

    Sparking,

    Firing,

    Loving,

    Healing,

    Soothing,

    Realising,

    Changing,

    Self respecting,

    Self loving,

    Warm compassion wins again.

    Gently,

    All over again.

    Recovering,

    Forgiving,

    Loving,

    Repeating the cycle

    Breakening,

    Healing,

    Breathing,

    Living,

    Flourishing

    Finding

    The real you, inside it all.

    Life- giving

    Life- receiving

    Making

    Renewing

    Awakening.

  • There’s no such thing as bad feelings.

    Every time I click onto my ‘WordPress’ app on my phone it gives me a different question prompt for the day, as an example, todays is ‘What do you know about where you live’ , and normally, because there’s often a few hundred answers recorded and I dont always want to answer it, I ignore it.

    Yesterday however I was about to. It asked the following question:

    What positive emotion do you feel the most often?

    I looking at this whilst I was out and about shopping in the morning, and so it occupied my thinking around Morrisons.

    My mind went to times of deep content and happiness, about the times of being at peace and still, about times when I feel safe and loved, and I smiled a little reflecting on these as I was doing my food shopping. It felt good to have a bank of experience of good feelings and emotions to draw from.

    So I nearly answered the question.

    But then I stopped myself. A tiny bit.

    I realised that as I was thinking about the question I had fallen into a bit of trap.

    in which I was labelling ‘good’ emotions and ‘bad’ emotions – or positive feelings and negative feelings. (and I know emotions and feelings are slightly different but im using them interchangeably here)

    And by doing so giving so called ‘bad’ feelings a further reason to avoid them or feel fearful of them, if they are ‘bad’ then I can have reason for feeling shame for having them – anger, fear, distress, frustration, grief , yet these are all part of the human experience – more so – they are part of your and my collective humanity.

    I have had to dig deep over the last few months, circumstances that ill not disclose, have caused me to face a number of situations, that have required intense emotional energy, both in fearing, in feeling injustice and feeling horrified, angry and grief.

    I know in the past I would have faced difficult situations with a Stoical ‘I will survive’ kind of mentality, or dismiss my own feelings at the time, for others, or project anger or grief elsewhere (Twitter was great for this). More often I would avoid the feeling, it was shameful and unsafe to have them. I had internalised that having feelings made me a bad person. So ‘Im Ok’ would suffice.

    By being stoical and ‘avoiding’ the deep emotions and feelings – that included anger, anger that revealed grief, and grief that meant loss, I would keep all of that buried underneath. I couldn’t have feelings, and definitely not ‘so-called’ bad ones.

    But suppressing feelings and emotions – meant not experiencing life, its goodness and beautiful moments too. As I read recently Sensitive by Hannah Jane Walker, she described the effect on a child of having parents who nurture or ignore a Childs emotions and their expression of them. My parents stole my emotions, to comfort themselves and keep up pretences. The more I realise this, the more that I understand the complex nature of what I have had to work through to be better and healthier emotionally, for myself and others.

    Back to digging deep, I have days when I can sense that I feel unsettled, out of kilter- mainly also because I have an experience of days in which I feel calm, content and happy too – I can sense that there is ‘something’ and nagging feeling – and I can make a choice as to what I do with it, and I know there are days when I dont want to. I know there are days when I become afraid of what I might be feeling or wanting what is behind it to reveal itself.

    I am never upset for the reason I think

    Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth (Taken from A course in Miracles)

    The temptation , because of learned behaviour, would be for me to avoid whatever it is. It’s more than likely to be be painful. At least that what ‘that voice’ says in my head. Those days then become a bubbling pot of anxiety and forgetting to breathe. They do more damage in, than out.

    I wonder if the problem isn’t the feeling or the emotion itself, but our relationship to it, and the means in which we have to express these healthily.

    So the labels of ‘good’ feelings and ‘bad’ feelings aren’t helpful, they are what they are – feelings.

    They happen, and it is better to notice them, feel them and find ways of giving them healthy air.

    If you’re anything like me then you may have felt unsafe expressing your feelings or found a way to talk your way out of them, suppress, deny and invalidate.

    So it makes it more of a challenge to do this when feelings get associated with judgement like good or bad. Ironically – a ‘bad’ feeling about something.. might be a good natural early warning sign – that you can choose to ignore or do something about – it’s a protective good thing, potentially.

    I was wondering whether there might be a better way of ‘collectivising’ feelings and emotions- could they be like tools in a shed, or toolbox – different feelings appropriate and used in different ways – but this metaphor almost give the impression that when we see a need we can choose the right tool, but feelings can be more intuitive and instinctive than this, its not a matter of picking the right feeling for the occasion, its that those feelings accompany the occasion or situation, and its important to adopt a healthy relationship with the feeling.

    How do you respond when you can sense the feeling? Does a critical voice tell you off for being joyful at something you felt joy happening? or a voice tell you that you’re not supposed to feel a certain way? Because, you are allowed to. It’s totally natural. Totally. But that voice suggests that it’s not valid, not to be trusted. A feeling, is just that a feeling, and whilst it’s not to be fully trusted every time, it’s equally not to be dismissed or ignored either – or invalidated. It is neither bad, nor good, it is what it is.

    Those feelings aren’t bad, but need appropriate attention and releasing, space and warmth to accept them, to become friends with, to feel them as they are, in all the human messiness and complexity. There is no shame in feeling, there are no bad feelings.

    But, there are pretty awful things that we can do, because of giving into anger, fear or grief, and thats something different altogether.

  • Pen on a Page

    Gently does it

    You, yes you

    life doesn’t work fast

    Time

    Makes Love

    Soft, making

    Of life

    In all its tenderness

    life

    giving

    wonder

    at the magic of it all

    life,

    noticing

    the leaf, the branch,

    the gap in between

    the voice within

    noticing

    in the mad rush of every day.

    Pen

    Pink pen

    love colour

    moving slowly on the page,

    watching my hand

    move.

    Every movement

    a dance of life,

    unconscious commands

    making creations on the page.

    Feeling the pen

    loose against my fingers

    gaps of light changing shape within

    the touch of my hand against the page

    lines and veins on my wrist.

    Let it flow

    let it flow,

    let it flow,

    release the passion,

    release the mind,

    draw deep from the depths within,

    not the thoughts that cover and torment the surface.

    Let it flow

    release

    faith, love and wonder,

    pain, peace and anger,

    making their way on to the page

    angry, soft heart

    soft heart

    gentle, soft heart

    soft, gentle heart

    living alive life

    being

    open, raw

    guided by the deep

    soft, gentle body

    breathing life

    like words on a page

    soft, gentle, still, breaths

    soft, gentle, me

    soft, gentle, you

    let the tears flow

    let it flow

    soul flow

    like

    Pen on a page.

  • Lets Talk Soul

    Have you ever thought about your soul?

    What’s your relationship with you soul?

    Why, did I know about my soul from my christian faith – but it was something that was ‘put off’ for the next life?

    It was as if this life was meant to be lived soul less?

    These questions, thoughts and reflections on the soul, in my latest video

    Please do watch, share and like – thank you

  • 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.

  • The Long Road of Recovering.

    The Long Road of Recovering.

    Yesterday I wrote a piece about how it was 4 years since I picked up my first self help book, when I realised that the damaging effect of, and types of narcissistic behaviour that had dominated my life, that piece is here:

    My Healing started the day I realised the narcissism of my mother

    4 Year ago the same month was also my first session with a therapist, and even deciding to do therapy felt like a deep personal shift in loving myself

    The thing I realised to is that its been 4 years.

    If I’m honest with myself, I kind of knew that the process of recovering from the childhood experiences, the abusiveness of my principle care giver (to give a more technical term), it was going to take significant time. It’ll be one reason why it took me having to hit rock bottom, and also have safe emotional space to start to deal with it.

    Though part of me might have wanted a quick -fix, there was and is no such thing.

    4 years, and the road still continues.

    I wouldnt say that even at this point that ‘I have dealt’ with everything.

    Im just walking. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes sitting on a bench. Sometimes taking a risk and putting my feet in the water. Sometimes letting the metaphorical emotions, memories, dreams and moments be felt on my face, like the wind. Sometimes feel like I’m walking and getting lost or stuck, and in those moments there’s been many tools, and guides along the way, encouaragers and supporters. Revisits to therapy. Reminders of what I knew. Reminders even that in tiring and stressful moments, I’m likely to forget what I knew.

    I still need to remember to breathe. I mean Im not going to be able to walk very far without breathing. But even that basic thing, I can easily forget.

    I still need to remind myself not to avoid feeling feelings – like getting a stone in my shoe on a hike, feel, notice, and respond.

    I still need to remind myself of my own strength, and to be kind on myself – getting lost on a walk might be an adventure in disguise.

    I still need to remind myself to notice the beauty moments along the way. The equivalent of the wild flowers or tiny insects on walk

    as well as some of the larger moments, that seem like clouds shifting and light pouring in. Storms on a walk dont seem fun, but they can shift the air around. With no storms there’s no rainbow.

    I still need be reminded of the universe. The universe that speaks in the loud storm or the colourful rainbow, the tiny insect of the rumbling waters over the weir. To be reminded to listen, and to hear in that moment, to sense, to feel, to appreciate.

    Its a long road.

    Ive had times when I thought, ‘yeah’ I’m sorted now. But then I get the ‘opportunity’ to face something else, to notice something in my shadow, to sense grief, or realise where I had stopped listening. Complacency doesn’t seem to be appropriate on this walk.

    Its a long road and its one step at a time.

    Its a long road, but at least I can sense myself on the road.

    Im not just watching the road, or watching others on the road.

    But sensing that I am on the road. The long road of life

    That I am on.

    I am making it happen. I am walking. One slow step at a time.

    Life on the road.

    Lord I dont know where I’m going, but I am walking.

    One conscious present moment at time.

    The long road – the long road of life,

    The long road – of being conscious me in the moment of each step.

    Learning and Feeling along the way.

    Points of gratitude. Moments of the guiding Universe.

    Tools laid by others, picked up to aid me.

    Reminding myself that I cannot be rushed.

    Step by Step, Moment by Moment.

    Walking, not rushing the long road of recovering.

  • 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

  • The Joy of First Time Puddles

    It rained today.

    Actually, where I was, it more than rained today

    Rain bounced off the roof today

    Rain flooded the cafe patio where I was today

    And it deluged the country lanes off North Yorkshire today for about 4 hours.

    And it was so bad, and spectacular some people took photos of it.

    So did I

    But I was inside. With the other sweaty walkers who’d made it indoors – filling the cafe with a stale damp smell of wet boots and jackets.

    And by three hours later the water had cascaded down the hill, and it was sunny at the top, and most of what was evident in the photo above, had dried away.

    But that’s not really what I wanted to write about. I wanted to give you the first part of my afternoon.

    Rain.

    As I drove back I saw something far far more remarkable and precious.

    28 Miles later and I have driven down the hill, over the A19 to Northallerton and making my way home.

    When I’m about a mile from my house and driving in the 30mph zone and about to queue for a roundabout.

    It has clearly been raining here too.

    The paved ‘pavement’ with its undulating slabs and grass edges was holding pools of water, substantial ones.

    And next to one of these pools was a navy blue push chair, containing a baby, the handle of the pushchair held by mum.

    Standing in the pool of water on the pavement was a tiny blonde boy. Navy blue dungarees, blue trainer shoes.

    Must have been about a year old, not much more.

    Standing still in the water, water about as high up to the top of his soles, so, not too deep.

    He was standing there as if this was the first puddle he had stood in in his entire life. Spellbound.

    Not splashing the water, running in it – but just standing in it.

    Feeling it.

    Noting the moment.

    Amazed.

    Then I thought, given the lack of rain, and his age – it might well be the first time he has seen a puddle.

    Seeing and feeling a puddle for the first time.

    Standing amazed, raptured. That feeling.

    First

    Time

    Puddle

    And it was pure joy.

    And watching it, for that split second moment – was pure joy too.

    Seeing childlike curiosity and joy – was joy in itself.

    Maybe that blue dressed blonde boy reminded me of someone…

    Maybe it was joyful too to see how the mum was letting the boy just ‘be present’ in the puddle and feel it

    It was ‘just’ a moment. But it was a ‘joy’ moment.

    A moment where I saw the little boy in the arena – the little boy in the puddle – the boy risk being himself – the boy risk the reaction of others – and have this moment validated by his mum.

    The boy experience the feeling of being wet. (and not just in a bath)

    Its easier to watch the rain and take photos of it, and moan about it, or be bored and frustrated by it.

    It was easier for me to stand on the edge of the arena and avoid the feelings, and watch as I didn’t take part in being myself in life. It wasnt easier, it was, as Brene Brown says, about numbing, shielding and hiding my vulnerabilities for the sake of survival. Watching life from the edge, disconnected.

    Watching the boy in the puddle helped me realise how I started to feel.

    How I needed the safety to dip my toe into the feelings – of metaphorical water.

    To let myself feel

    Feelings ive found can be like puddles, they can be like waves, they can be like waterfalls.

    High Force – County Durham – Sept 2022

    Some are pleasant, some are calm, some surprise and some feeling like a downward uncontrollable swirl, sometimes the water is warm, other times it’s cold.

    I used to try and wear layers of waterproofs, heavy boots and umbrellas and lather myself in oil. Anything to avoid and protect myself from getting wet emotionally. Or stay in the warm spots of looking into and helping others with their emotions. I could understand aspects of other peoples water. But without letting my own feet get wet. Too risky.

    Im on a continual journey of keeping my feet in the water. Keeping my feet in. Not afraid.

    Feeling, the sand, the cold, the wet, the reaction.

    Feelings like rain, like water.

    Raw, naked feet and ankles.

    About to feel.

    The joy of the first time puddle.

    The joy of feeling

    And it was ok. It was ok to feel. Safe to feel.

    The vulnerability of feeling for the first time.

    Learning to feel

    Learning to accept

    Learning to be raw and naked

    Learning to stand in the water

    Attending to my human self, my emotional self.

    The raw joy of first time puddles.

    References to ‘The Arena’ are from Brene Browns book Daring Greatly – which im reading at the moment.

  • Hiding behind Okay

    Hiding behind Okay

    Hey again, its you

    and me

    having a chat again this evening

    How are you doing?

    fine?

    Thats what I used to say,

    Fine,

    I’m ok,

    I’m doing OK,

    Thats what I used to say.

    And if someone asked me in that slow, actually listening voice, I’d say something like;

    ‘Yeah, I’m OK’

    Why?

    Why did I do that?

    Why do I still do that?

    Do you do that?

    I am doing OK

    When sometimes I am doing nothing at all

    When sometimes I am doing nothing at all that I like doing

    When sometimes its just a pitiful voice saying Im Ok – but I don’t believe myself when I’m doing it

    Because Im not ok, or I wasn’t ok.

    I was just hiding and pretending

    It was more than that though.

    It was being the strong one, being the one who dealt with other peoples problems

    When mine were deep, unknown to myself even, and in the ‘DONT GO THERE’ category.

    JUST DONT GO THERE.

    Its more than that too.

    I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.

    I didnt want to have to need you

    I didnt want to be vulnerable

    I didnt want to not be the ‘Emotional strong one’

    I didnt feel safe – that you might listen

    I didnt want to open up that dark cupboard door, in which everything was hidden.

    I DIDNT WANT TO SAY THAT I WASNT OK

    Hide Everything – behind OK.

    Why… because of this:


    But what about you?

    So, how might you respond to ‘How are you?’ this evening?

    Whats the real answer?

    Its ok that its the real answer

    Just take a moment to listen to that real answer.

    Not the answer of your mind, not the answer you think I want to hear – the answer of the still small voice inside.

    Not the critic one, the heart one.

    The heart voice.

    How is your heart this evening?

    Broken, Weary, Alive, loved, peaceful, happy? A mixture of all of these – quite possibly

    Is your heart breathing?

    What colour does it feel to be?

    Bright red? light grey? purple or Orange? Yellow, green or blue

    Listen, feel

    Its ok to feel the fucking feelings

    Let them out, tears might be the feelings trying to flood their way out

    they might be.

    Dont say you dont have time for them. They’ll find a way one day.

    They won’t do you any harm.

    Its you, your feelings.

    Part of beautiful you is the emotions.

    Took me a while to be safe to share mine, and still it can be a struggle. Im used to hiding them and dissociating from them, you might be different.

    Maybe get a pen, or kids crayon and draw out the feelings, choose the most appropriate colour and make a mess on the page.

    I dont even care if you start by getting angry at me as you read this, Im a sanctimonious blogger who’se just discovered emotions and now writing in the 4th wall to try and be trendy. So Hate me. Start there, fine by me, make it Red, hold the crayon tight and get mad.

    Good.

    Let it out.

    Make it a messy blob, or a poem of expression. Tell it as it is. For no audience.

    Then throw it away, or sell it for a million pounds. Its up to you.

    It didnt have to be anger by the way. Draw daisies and butterflies if thats how you’re feeling.

    Sometimes the good gets ignored doesnt it

    Its time for me to go now

    But I just wanted to check in with you again, Im busy tomorrow so I wont be around.

    Im glad we talked again, thank you for sharing with yourself.

    Did you notice?

    How do you feel now?

    After it came out?

    Write that down too, and now go and get a cup of tea, like I have

    Sleep well

    Bye for now

    Beautiful human.

    See you next time,

    James