Learn to love and appreciate your past. Fully embrace it, thank it for teaching you, and let go of any judgement that there was something wrong with it. Your past is uniquely yours. It happened. It’s sacred. It’s beautiful. Nobody else had it, and nobody else ever will. Embrace your past, hug it, kiss it, love it to death
(Michael A Singer, Living Untethered)
That’s very different from ‘you just need to move on’
What happened yesterday happened. It isn’t today.
What happened 35 years ago happened. It isnt today.
But current experience may also be the constant reliving of the past.
Loving the past feels dreamy and impossible.
And for 40+ years I loved suppressing the shadows of a past I didn’t want to open. A past that I was afraid of, a past, the wounds of childhood abuse that I had masked for so long.
Had to hide it was to make it on my own
Had to pretend it didn’t happen to have a ‘successful life’
Had to, it was the only way.
Didn’t want to go there.
And that didn’t seem even a choice at the time, just the only way I knew, suppress and pretend, just don’t open the box.
Let the past have power over me.
Yet some things find themselves harder to get rid of.
Memories intertwined with regret
Memories intertwined with loss
Memories intertwined with shame.
Self defeating prisons of the mind.
That don’t exist in the now.
But haunt.
Self love isn’t just baths.
Its tender, kind, self forgiveness
Love of the highest order
The past.
It happened to cause us to learn.
And to give us the opportunity in the now to hold it, hug it and kiss it to death, so that it’s part of our loved selves.
I used to suppress everything, so I didn’t feel anything
Get through it
Survive it
Bounce
Close off my heart, live a shrouded life.
Any discomfort was barely even felt
Or felt in silence, private and…
then pushed through,
and receive the weight , the noise of my own destructive self talk.
Trauma voice shouting internally.
No heart open to love myself, so no love to do its work.
But I realised over the course of the last year,
of journaling words of self love everyday.
That there are more aspects of life that I now talk more lovingly to.
Because, talking lovingly to myself is actually a free choice. You can do it, but like me, I was too scared to.
I didnt want to believe that I actually was lovable, incredible, brave, courageous, powerful.
But then I did.
And something I noticed, is that when I talked kindly to myself…
I didnt beat myself up that often
I could tell myself that I had done well in what I was doing
I could feel proud of myself
All completely unconditionally. A choice.
Loving the discomfort.
Thats been tough.
Because often I forget, or I am tired, or there’s a new ‘thing’ that appears, a feeling or situation, and it swipes me.
Sometimes I berate myself for feeling what I feel. it’s like I think I shouldn’t feel anxiety, or depressed, or lonely even after doing all this work.
Maybe I dont think I should be triggered.
But thats not what it’s about.
It’s these moments, where the work helps to self regulate. It’s these moments to notice the feeling. It’s these moments to feel them.
Sensing it.
And to love it.
In the moment.
Because they stem from wounded parts. They are feelings, angels of learning, and opportunities to be loved and held.
Discomfort needs to be loved and not berated
Discomfort needs to be loved and not criticised
Discomfort needs to be loved and not ignored or suppressed
Discomfort needs to be held, in your open heart
And know that its ok, its trying to protect you
And love you may have for someone else, rightly, turn it inwards, protect your energy and fill that discomfort, that pain with love from within. Talk to it as a friend. Ask. Love. Breathe love into it.
You’ll be frozen in your moment You’ll be beautiful for all of time Waiting on the wonder road Where saints and angels walk the line And someday much, much older You’ll look back and chance to dream aloud Was there a moment greater Than one to make someone proud
I love this time of the year. Its the time of year when I wake up and drink coffee looking out of the window and see how the dark blue early morning light changes through the colours into the sunrise, admitted today it is just a grey light giving tree branches a dark effect. I love this time of the year, because this all happens at a reasonable time of the morning.
Yet, I do the same thing every morning
I turn on the light.
I flick the switch
So I can see.
So that I can get on with..whatever the day brings, requires light
Coffee, breakfast, reading, work….
Its as if the darkness of the night needs to be escaped from, obliterated, and eyes drawn to the comfortable of the kettle, the sink, the phone, the laptop, the busy, the things, the activities..
Night Walking with Scouts when I was 13 taught me about not using the torchlight until it was impossible not to see with my own night vision. My eyes could adjust. At 13 I would need lights for my bike on early morning paper rounds, so cars could see me, but I could see ok. ‘It’s not as dark as we make it out to be’ when we step outside light infused buildings into the natural light of the streets, the parks or the moonlit infused sky of the open field.
‘The people in darkness will see a great light’
I used to the love the darkness of the streets, the towns the cities, as I walked them, as I had conversations with young people as a youthworker in them, the darkness often meant more interesting conversations than in the summer time, the dark autumn and winter nights full of adventure, adrenalin and unpredictability. That was a darkness, that was a terrain I was comfortable to explore in, and rarely needing a torch.
Far easier to explore the outer terrain of the darkness, than explore the terrain within.
The terrain within, the darkness within so full of shame, hurt, pain, not to be touched, not to go there. To be afraid, to let it have power.
To be afraid of the dark.
To become aware, is to see the light (John O’Donohue)
Yet that often truthful voice of darkness remains, at times shouting, at times cajoling, at times fearing, at times reminding, and for so long it dominated my everything, and it may do you too.
I thought I could maintain appearances
I thought if I could just do something everything would be ok
I thought if I did the right things, other people would change
I thought that ……
Yet the ache of darkness pained within, prowled, festered, and was fed daily. Telling me truths, that I tried to block out, cover it with busy, distract with drama, soothe with food, fill that aching pain of darkness. Pretend it wasnt there, false masking in life, the energy it took to keep the James show on the road, numbing the pain.
Afraid of the inner dark.
The inner dark maintaining its place, loving the self destruction, never wanting to be exposed, never wanting to be seen, self torture and blame its oxygen, self destruction its goal.
Morality is often the enemy of growth (John O Donohue)
We dont want to go there. It feels painful.
I didnt.
So accustomed to the light, so sometimes spiritually accustomed to God being equated with light, that darkness is shamed, darkness is rejected, darkness is suppressed, darkness is moral failure. Darkness is to be avoided.
Yet, thought you and I may walk in the shadows, I will be with you, you will not be alone (Psalm 23)
He will be called Emmanuel, God is with you….and with you always…
In the dark, and not just to transform it, but walking with you through it, through the torture of trauma, through the torture of the voices that dont go away, through the torture of daily abuse, the self soothing and addiction, through the torture of feeling small, trapped, alone… through, with, alongside.. In…yes in the darkness
About three weeks into recovering from my emotional breakdown of 6 years ago, I was reading the Anglican Morning prayer with my friend, and though I cannot remember or find the exact passage, it was something about ‘God appearing in the clouds’ it was in Isaiah somewhere, I can’t find it. And my anglican priest friend just said to me, ‘James, God will meet you in the cloud, whatever path you need to go on, God will be close, even when the cloud mystifies, hides, soaks the path, God will be there, and will appear to you, in the cloud itself’
It gave me ‘spiritual permission’ for want for a better phrase to continue the very tentative process then of the inner walk, revealing and uncovering, that God, that I believed in was light, love and joy….was also in the darkness, also in the bewildering hidden space between. Also in the cloud.
Like today. No mystical sunrise beyond the blue. Just grey light as grey as this screen is im typing on.
In the darkness we are confronted with the unknown, peering cautiously around the corners, tentative steps with tiny courage, falling at hurdles never seen in the light… but thats ok.. its where courage gets tested, its where resolve gets made, its where, honestly, its where love finds us. The more we shame the darkness the more it destroys us. Thats not the path of the God of the bible, its not the path of love, its not the path of healing, its not the path of joy.
That darkness is not us. It is not your identity. It is not who you are.
The darkness might help us, in ways we are unable to see…yet.
The darkness might be shielding us from too much shiny light (s) that seem false, seem unreal, seem artifical
The darkness might be reminding us of part of our truth, a truth to be be faced, faced so that it doesn’t continue to have power over us . Faced so that we can realise that we are bigger than it. Faced so it’s a friend and loved, not a prickly pain in the corner, festering, faced so it has the possibility of transformation.
The darkness helps us to grow, if we have the courage to turn, to, like my eyes on scout trips, adjust to it, feel our way around it, become friends with it, accept it, and love it. Slow, eye adjustment, not blinding torch. Darkness needs hugs and warmth, and whilst it tells you otherwise, you have more than enough love to give to it.
The people who walk in darkness will see a great light… They will, and you will, and I will..and from the shadows light will emerge.
James Ballantyne 