Anger

The details aren't important to this entry about my emotional state (I write to process my emotions), but to give the reader some context a couple of years ago my only sibling was supposedly lent a large sum of money by our mother. Recently I asked the status of that loan and was told that the loan had been forgiven. I need not worry, I was told because an amount, exactly half the amount of the borrowing, had been put aside in the Will for me.

I worked on the basis that a mistake had been made. I approached my brother about it and he tried to confuse me with twisted accounting. I doubted myself and thought of it from every angle until I asked my older son to confirm what I knew. It was rubbish. My brother had no alternative but to concede. He was confusing two things, he said. As far as I was concerned, I had learned at school that the amount on either side of an equal  sign had to be the same, and so had he. It was deeply disappointing.

Assuming that this error in his mathematical thinking had resulted in an erroneous entry in the Will I approached my mother about it. Bare in mind, I am not young and so I represent my four children on these matters. When my mother wants back up for bad behavior she has her younger sister sit in and it was during this conversation that the thinking that went into this decision was laid out on the table.

Nearly 25 years ago, my husband had seen what he thought was a great business opportunity and my mother thought so too because she invested some of her money in the same stock. The opportunity fizzled and they both lost out on the stock, in the same way that my mother won heavily on some stock that I acquired for her. That's the game. There are winners and losers every day.

For a time, my husband and I were in financial difficulty over the decisions made then and although we paid back to her most of what we borrowed from my mother during that 'opportunity', there was a sum my husband didn't pay back. It was never discussed, not once in nearly 25 years, although it seems that my brother was given an amount equal to that sum, to square things up. It never sat well with me. I knew my mother's mind. But, I think my husband thought it was over. We'd been very generous to her over the many years since. We had her to stay for a month at a time when living in the US and she had stayed with us countless times in our home here. I have accompanied her to endless medical appointments, shopped for and with her. Even I had come to think that the borrowing had been forgiven.

Perhaps it is this borrowing that assisted in me not looking at or caring about the money that went my brother's way. My mother and he shared a business that my father bought shortly before his death (no, no-one thought about a business for me) and when capital expenditure/investment took place from my mother's personal account into their business for which I would not receive a penny, my eyes barely flickered at the talk. 

So, back to the talk about the erroneous mathematics.  The two broads sitting opposite me very quickly explained (well, my aunt spoke on my mother's behalf; a twisted sort of 'It's not my business, but your mother...' dynamic) that there was no mistake. Remember the money that my husband had not paid back nearly 25 years?, they had deducted that off the tab, and the rest, well, who cares about equality? Never mind that my brother was inheriting land that would result in vast wealth, we were still quibbling about a small amount from a quarter of a century ago.

I have had many conversations with myself since this encounter. Is this, in my mind, about money, or love? Is this about loyalty? Am I putting some stock in all this junk because we didn't/don't get hugs; am never told 'I love you'? Has it always been some sick Irish joke about power?

For many years, I told myself to hang on. If I could just get to the end of my mother's life without thinking about it too much; maintain a 'grey rock' non emotional approach to her and her antics, I would be fine. Let the world think she is a sweet little old lady. Where's the harm? I have my own family. I am loved dearly by them, so why not?

The facts seem to be, however, that narcissistic nasty oriented people actually live long lives. They hold grudges forever. Thinking about themselves, they seem to be insured in some way; able to withstand the damage incurred to body and soul of the person who is empathic and forgiving; who turns the other cheek and goes on offering love and kindness.

Back in 2011 when I went to a psychologist one of her first questions was about the relationship with my mother. I was in complete denial and assured her it was fine, except for the fact that she never said a good word about my husband (and we have been together now for 44 years). I assured her I could handle it.

However, nearly a decade later, I realize I was wrong. I can't handle it. Last year, when I saw another psychologist, an older man, I described my surviving birth family. He was very quiet and eventually said, 'There's no value for you there.' He told my husband that my trips to my mother were 'very destructive' for me. Still, I battled on, playing the role of the dutiful daughter that had been assigned to me.

A week on from the scene at a cafe where they laid out their thesis - we don't believe in equality and we don't forget, and by the way, we don't like your husband - I find I don't sleep much. And then it occurred to me early this morning that what I was experiencing was red hot anger; not that I had been dealt this hand, but that I had stayed in the game so long with such a losing hand.

I hadn't thought that I could actually make the decision of going 'no contact' and stick with it. And yet, I had been moving along this trajectory. My mother is in a place where her needs are met. She has her beloved son (who can't stand her) near by, for now. My aunt visits her all the time. I had been taking her home for a few days at a time but she would get ugly when I returned her to the home. I don't actually have to do this. I can get on with my life.

Who knew? I can get on with my own life.

Anxiety and self care

 We were traveling together, my brother and I, on our way to transact some family business when he chose to share with me that he had begun medication for his anxiety. We had never referred to him as being an anxious person and whilst I could see that he was sometimes uptight and stewing over something or other, it hadn't occurred to me that he would feel the need to medicate his angst.

It turns out that his mind was always racing; always troubled by perhaps a small thing such as misplacing something, to the big things like the state of the world, and all things in between. As soon as he described this inner world to a doctor he had scripts in his hand; one to dull down the activity of his mind and the other to get him to have some uninterrupted sleep.

Apparently, the medication has helped him beyond measure. I am seeing the benefits of medication for anxiety, though I have never taken medication for anxiety myself and nor has anybody suggested that I do.

I wouldn't say that my mind stream is always comfortable, not at all. What I have learned to do is not to let it carry me away, with the odd exceptional experience. The thoughts are there but I approach them with curiosity and sort of listen in to the voice in the head. 

Sometimes I consciously choose to alter the thoughts. If it feels like that voice is getting too worked up or going down a path that does not look like the right one for me (much as you might be walking in nature and find yourself having to decide which path to choose), I adjust the thoughts. 

I might choose to simply let go of the thoughts, to adjust them in another direction. Or, I might interrogate them. A question like, 'Is this true?' can help. I might simply note the kind of thought that is trying to grab my attention. I might say, for example, 'Isn't this that old tale of not feeling loved/respected/adored/taken advantage of?' (as appropriate to the thought).

If I feel in immediate danger, not physical danger but the sort of danger where one feels derailed inside, I consciously choose to offer myself some sort of remedy. The remedy I go to most often is to offer myself the gift of consciously being aware of my breathing; noticing each nuance of the breath; the pace, the sense of the breath traveling through the body, the feeling of peace beginning to resonate in the body; a slower breath. This is an act of self-love and this always feels right; calming.

For several months, the personal challenges have been circling me. I have needed to put my mother into an Aged Care facility. I have needed to make use of a Power of Attorney written 22 years ago to establish my mother's finances and how to pay for this facility. I have needed to address the relationship with my brother and my aunt who have had more knowledge of these matters than me over the years. 

Although my mother chose this facility and this course of action, each time I take her home for a few days I go through the same traumatic experience. At some point, usually the day before she goes back, she becomes hostile towards me and my brother. Although there is no other choice (she has Lewy Body dementia) and we can't leave her on her own for even a couple of hours, we walk her through her choices so that she can arrive at the same conclusion as always; there is no other choice. 

We're not the first family to go through this situation. But when we ask something like, 'How are you feeling?' and she answers 'Who would care how I feel?' or she says to someone 'If they only tried harder I could live in my own home', it hurts. The only answer is self-love; offering yourself that moment of grace where you acknowledge that you are doing the best you can; that this is hard and you need a moment for yourself.

When you need medication to settle the mind and body down, then you need it. I think medication is necessary for some people in some situations. But, I can't imagine it for myself. I do think it would be wonderful for anxieties to feel further away; that the body is less reactive to triggers. On the other hand, I also believe we can learn to do this work without the chemical invasion.

For several months, I have had next to no privacy or personal time for myself. COVID led to a full house; more house bound work; more need to converse with others; less yoga and meditation time. Yet, in a few moments, I can maintain care for myself. 

- Follow the breath

- Listen to the thought stream; be curious; investigate the thoughts.

- Offer yourself the love, attention and respect you need. Don't wait for someone else to give this to you.

In Australia, the phrase 'Life wasn't meant to be easy' was made famous by a politician, of all people. People made fun of him for saying it, but he was right. Only a fool would believe that life was meant to be easy. Life on this planet is full of challenges. We are designed for challenge. We are designed for loss. Grief is something we must all go through. Dying is something we all face.

To believe we can engineer perfect solutions is a fool's game. We can, however, choose to act from a place of love and peace. We can aim to do the best for others but we need to remember that we also need to take care of ourselves. I heard someone refer to this as 'Goddess time'. I loved that.

You might like to try crossing your hands over your heart and listening to the beating of your heart. Yes, my dears, you too deserve your attention, love and care.

Thy life's a miracle

 Since I can't vote in the US election, like everybody except American citizens, one is left to watch, hope and pray that American citizens will take their responsibility, and their opportunity, seriously to return the world back to some sort of balance, harmony and unity.

I happened to meet someone out walking yesterday and we were saying how lucky we are to be Australians. We conform to rules. We accept lock downs in an effort to keep the vulnerable safe. We care about others. We do things for the greater good. 

In my city we have been under curfew for months. Right now, the curfew has been eased so that we can be out of our houses for a few specific and vital reasons until 9 pm. 'That wouldn't fly here,' said an American friend.

The friend in the street agreed that the Greeks wouldn't tolerate it either. But, apart from a bit of grumbling here and there, we are tolerant of the restrictions. We see the point, the plan; the reasoning, based on best medical advice.

My friend happened to have a pet emergency last night and as he drove to have the dog operated on, across several suburbs, he met not another car on the street. Honestly, we comply.

I admit I am nostalgic right now for a better America. (American was my home for 11 years and I love the place.) I watched the whole SBS 'Hillary' documentary this week, and interviews with various members of the Bush family. What kind and decent people they are, and Laura and  George produced two really 'beautiful in spirit' young women.

Then, I spent time yesterday afternoon watching Supreme Court Justice Ginsberg in conversation at a few law schools. She was so considerate and gentle with the students, so well aware that behind all her decisions were people. I loved the line, 'You can disagree without being disagreeable.'

Anything that divides masses of people, anything at all, is really such a bad idea. It goes against the law of mankind, people living together on the one planet; that you treat people as you would want them to treat you. It's that simple. Haven't we learned this over the centuries a hundred times over?

Who actually wants a man like Donald Trump as their leader? The lies, the accusations, the false statements; the vendettas; the thirst for love and approval displayed on the world stage. Which other President of the United States in modern time has even come close to creating such acrimony, such division; such disgust?

On a spiritual level, the World Wide Web created the opportunity for the West to learn about the open hearted kindness, gratitude and tranquility practices of the East. It felt hopeful. Imagine if people across the Globe developed awareness! Imagine all the people, living life in peace!

I do feel we are at a crossroads. There are people so fearful for the sake of the planet they believe, based on evidence available, that we may be the last people to walk this Earth. 

For the sake of the world at this time, we need a new direction. Nothing is more important for you to do in your American lives than to get out and vote. What possible plausible reason can you give for not attending to this civic responsibility? Please, vote.

Doing nothing

 There are people who pick up on other people's energy - positive energy and negative energy. I am one of them. The sensitivity to all the energy out there is so profound that there are times when I, and people like me, need to be alone. You don't need to be a meditator but if you are inclined to absorb the energies about you, time to sit quietly with eyes closed and just breathe is important.

As I do that now, my mind comes into the present moment where everything is...absolutely fine. The house and its surrounds are quiet. There is a sort of vague buzzing, maybe in my ears, but it seems more than that; like I am noticing the energy of my environment.

A minute ago I noticed the rumble of a truck on the freeway in the distance and just now a van of some sort passed down the street on which I live.

I have no desire for company whatsoever but I did open the front door a little this morning (not the security door) with a support, so that the postal man knew I was there, since the front door bell is not operating. I look forward to warmer weather when that little symbol of the world outside my door, an open front door, is in place. It hasn't been a cold winter at all but the winter symbolizes COVID and the introduction of Spring suggests that maybe things are improving.

In fact, things are improving. My city is still locked down. We still have a curfew. Practically everything is still closed. Yet, there are fewer cases every day. By the end of October some services can operate; surgery will be largely resumed for the unwell.

I live in a city that is very cafe latte/chardonnay imbibing. We love socializing. There are constantly food markets and fairs, football games, cricket matches; festivals. I am wondering if it will almost be too much. We used to have so much to choose from it was almost overwhelming. It almost felt wrong to be at home for the weekend. 

In fact, I remember that when someone asked what you did over the weekend, it seemed wrong to say you gardened, or wrote, or read. You needed, it seemed to me, to report a gathering of some sort or going somewhere to see something in particular. I wonder if we will be more inclined to be still or if we will go mad; run from one event and activity to another.

The world runs on momentum. We keep moving. That seems right. Plan something. Do something. I know I feel better in a state of momentum; not too much, but enough.

Sometimes, I ask myself, what are we moving towards? Why can't we sit in the one place and just BE? Why the guilt about that? Are we social losers if we enjoy alone time?

I close my eyes, right hand resting on my chin. I hear birds chirping. I notice the breath rising and falling in my chest. I feel my feet connected to the floor below me. Now, I hear the reverberation of the refrigerator; ever so slight. And, an aeroplane flying over me; the clicking of the laptop keyboard. 

I begin to feel connected to you; the anonymous reader that might run an eye over these words. Do you ever feel what I feel? Do you need to connect in with your own body; to live in your senses? Do you notice the moment by moment passing of time that lies behind all the momentum of the world? Do you, like I, feel energized by stopping long enough to take the time to listen?

My Parts

A long time ago, perhaps 25 or 26 years ago, we were in Pennsylvania staying right on the fringe of the Amish community. I had long held a fascination with their lifestyle and had booked a cabin as close to the community as I could. It turns out that I had rented the cabin from a psychiatrist and among the many books in the cabin was one about family therapy. I was drawn to this book and read as much of it as I could in the time available. I knew that somewhere in the pages of that book was something important for me to know, but I wasn't ready to understand the message.

For about a year, I have been watching clips online of Richard Schwartz talking about this model of therapy wherein he gets in touch with the parts of people. Somewhere on my shelves is the book I bought Internal Family Systems. I read it and no doubt underlined key ideas  but I only took it in in a theoretical sense. I wasn't making the headway I had hoped for.

A few weeks ago I signed up for the Trauma Summit online run by Sounds True. If you don't know Sounds True, I highly recommend it to you. I forgot about this Summit and only in the last few days of the free summit I noticed an email link and began to listen to sessions. You may know that many of these free summits are only free for a short time and can be quite expensive to purchase so I drenched myself in various sessions for a day to try to catch up on what I felt was the best of the sessions offered.

In Day 6 of the summit, Richard Schwartz had given a presentation, going through the process he has for his trauma patients, and I decided to follow along, as if I were the patient. The following is what I discovered.

Just briefly, Schwartz maintains, and has established over a career of 35 years, that we are made up of parts some of which try to protect us. In this process of protecting parts of ourselves become alienated. We can heal ourselves with a little direction if we can respectfully and kindly approach a Manager and get to know it. If we can do this skillfully, openly and honestly, we can release our Self with all the components that allow us to flourish. These components are called the 8 Cs - curiosity, confidence, clarity, calm, compassion, courage, connectedness and creativity.

First of all, Schwartz explained that all our parts have talents and resources, but due to trauma and attachment issues, some parts are taken out of operation. There are parts, which are referred to as Managers, who feel the need to protect the alienated parts. You might call such a Manager an inner critic but the voice, or part, that I located was one that was not so much an Inner Critic as a very deep and intense protector; insistently demanding that I stay low; silent; acquiescent; agreeable.

I should explain that this is all happened just now, and the reason I think I was able to locate it and listen to it was that I had an experience a few days ago where I very clearly heard my Protector giving me very specific instructions.

Schwartz is clear that permission must be sought to approach a part and I did ask it if I could get close with a respectful curiosity. I sat with it, trying to understand its motives.

Here's what I learned:

The part of me that is authentic, playful, open and looking to bond was injured very early on in my life. The words that authentic part heard was 'You're not one of us.' 'Run away' 'Don't take chances.' 'I don't have time for you.' 'You need to be independent.' So, by necessity, or so it seemed to the Protector, this playful part with needs, needs to be connected and bonded, childlike, but with opinions, had to be exiled.

A Manager stepped in, a Protector, another part that spoke to me, all the time, I realize now. It said, 'Don't say anything.' 'Keep quiet.' 'You can mange by yourself.' 'It's dangerous to speak up. Whatever you do, don't speak up, it will only be much worse if you do.'

That's the voice I located the other day, a voice so familiar to me that I hadn't even realized how often it spoke to me. The voice had become a part of me.

Schwartz directed us to ask the part, 'What would you like to do, if you didn't have to do this job?' I waited for the answer and it said to me, 'I would like to enjoy watching you being authentic. I would like for that hurt part of you to stop hurting, to feel whole and loved; loveable. I would like to see you have fun; be joyful not just with yourself but with others. I would love it if you could speak your truth so I didn't have to protect you any more and I could just watch you be whole.'

Schwartz asked to see if we could turn this part - an Enemy of sorts - into a friend and thank it for having done this job. He asked us to ask this part how old it thought we were. I couldn't discern an age but the protector had been with me for as long as I could remember, so I guess it thought I was still a child.

Of the 8 Cs that can emerge, perhaps all of them, I definitely detected Courage coming forth. I had approached this material honestly and I felt a courage, a calm coming forth.

I detect the Protector's voice unsure and unwilling to let go of the job as yet. I feel a warm connection to the part. I think it has been with me for so long that it's hard to imagine it not being there. But, at least we are talking.

My Witness

Perhaps it's my contemplative nature combined with the fact that I keep journals filled with notes and thoughts that come to me and demand some sort of voice, that I often find a sentence here or there completely resonates with the feelings I hold inside me at this moment.

So, this morning I noted on Facebook an advertisement for a woman running some sort of course. She wrote, 'We all need a sacred witness in life...'. I think that too, at the same time as I am notably private. She went on to write about 'the spirit within you' that directs you in decision making. It will vary from person to person but I think we can all get in touch with that spirit at certain moments.

And then, I happened to open a journal of mine on a page where some years ago I must have been listening to Richard Flanagan, one of our best fiction authors. I had made a note of his observation that as people we congregate within the structure of 'family'; that although we nurture, protect and love, it doesn't necessarily satisfy; that what satisfies can be unquantifiable. Maybe, he suggested, it is how something makes you feel...

Yesterday, I listened to a recording of a talk by Rick Hanson, who I admire very much; a lovely guide for meditators and an incredibly intelligent and caring psychologist. He was talking about the fact that perhaps a good question to ask about an interaction with another person is 'Do you feel bigger/open/supported, or pushed down, needing to prove yourself more?' Ultimately, he said 'they will do what they do'. Very true.

Somewhere in the discussion he mentioned feeling that some interactions were 'tender and sweet'. A bell went off in my head. Did I experience the transactions with my mother as 'tender and sweet', now or ever? I think at times she has tried to be that person, in her own way. I think she feels more than she can express.

Sometimes, I visit with her and I come away feeling, not necessarily uplifted, but not unhinged by the visit. That's a very good visit. Mostly, I come away feeling deep internal distress that I simply cannot put into words. I don't experience anything tender or sweet about those exchanges, most particularly when I go towards her body to say goodbye and she puts her arms behind her back. I am left to peck her on the cheek. Lately, that's felt like a dagger going through my heart.

I think every human does need a witness to their lives. It could be a priest, or a parent, or a friend that knows you just as you are, and accepts you just as you are. It could be someone new as well; perhaps a mentor for someone overcoming an addiction. Maybe it is only half the time a 'family' member. We have the ability to create our own family, or become fiction writers, or keep a journal, or write poetry. Whatever allows us to express what lies dormant in our soul is right. Thus, I continue to write here, in  my tiny corner of the Internet. Thank you for being my Witness.

No-one saves us but ourselves

In a guided meditation it might be suggested to you that when resting in a quiet and calm space, whatever thoughts, feelings or sensations might be floating along in your mind, it's okay.

If you think of yourself as like a container, or a vessel - an empty container or perhaps an uninhabited vessel - whatever comes and whatever goes doesn't have the power, or the opportunity to disturb that sanctum.

The vessel may notice the thoughts, sensations and feelings passing through, but it doesn't change or alter the container or vessel. Do the flowers change the vase?

The container sees no reason or purpose in latching onto what is passing through and nor does it feel compelled to repel a thought, a feeling or sensation. Since the container itself is perfectly fine, being the witness of all, any and every occurrence - so called 'wanted' or 'unwanted' events - it experiences  default ok-ness.

For most people, I am going to guess that this sort of idea isn't taken on immediately. (I am already imagining someone suggesting a vase might break...) As I experienced a tumble of thoughts during meditation, at times I had to get up and move away from my meditation. Certain thoughts derailed me; certain experiences had me feel my breath was urgently out of control. These things usually take time.

It is said that if you want to achieve anything good, it takes practice. So it is with a spiritual practice. If you want to be more warm-hearted, for example, it would be helpful to actually sit and generate kind thoughts until it becomes more natural. I don't think this is particularly different from feeling you aren't a natural cook and yet after several attempts you do manage to cook an edible and even delicious cake.

The thought of a quiet and calm space which one inhabits, and the thought of living in an open-hearted way resonates for me even in a political context. One might have feelings of contempt for a political leader at the same time as one can be open-hearted towards all human beings, even at the same time as one votes to oppose a leader, or as one might be dismayed at a political result.

Once you take this idea into the core of yourself it goes well beyond a useful thought in meditation. It becomes a way to live. Hard and fast expectations, judgments, even disappointment in people can pass through your mind as observations without needing to feel that they have in some way derailed you, impaled you or set you off course. You have, you see, removed the opportunity for that to happen. A thought is a thought is a thought is a thought.  In five minutes you will have a different thought; even an opposing thought.

When you sit quietly and still, observing what is there in the mind without judgment or labels, whatever is observed can be seen as the 'what is' of the present moment. The need to disassociate, to ignore, to freak out, is unnecessary. You've established yourself as a strong, indestructible vessel of peace and consequently whatever the mind conjures is withstood. With curiosity about the thoughts, feelings and sensations of the mind and body these observations are observed much as one might observe and examine a rare species in a museum. Isn't that all quite fascinating!

The Buddha had it worked out a long time ago. 'No-one saves us but ourselves.'

To be clear, this individual stance in no way suggests inaction. In a state of clarity of mind and conviction, there comes a time, usually a collective time, when change is sought; demanded. This is a troubling time for this world and yet a time that offers great promise. I choose to believe that we are up to the task.

Re-evaluate

The coronavirus came upon us quite suddenly, at the same time as various circles of people understood that it was just a matter of time before we hit a world crisis. My little sanga of people attempting to walk the spiritual path had access to information that suggested that the time was close.

Jane Goodall came out and said in the past few days that we had brought it on ourselves. Imposing on the habitat of animals had forced them to come closer to one another and to us and that put pressure on the relational systems of animals and humans living together. It could be more sinister than even this idea. I don't know about that. I am not a conspiracy afficionado but I acknowledge that there are evil forces in the world, so maybe so.

This is a way of saying that I wasn't completely shocked by what has occurred, but anxious and sad and worried, just like the rest of us. I am, one could say, a bit better off than those in large cities such as New York or London, and yet there has been a breakout in an aged care home just a moment from where I purchase petrol (gas) and a few minutes walk from my home. It is everywhere.

I eat well. I sleep well. I take supplements to boost immunity. I do yoga and shake daily (TRE) and I keep on top of how I am breathing, thinking and feeling. I stay at home almost all the time aside from a daily walk. I am doing all I can to stay well and ensure I don't make other people sick. I am in awe of front line workers. They deserve our praise and appreciation. They deserve Medals of Bravery.

Whilst at home I have used the extra time to do a lot of research. Whether you call it self-differentiation, or healing from a toxic relationship, or self love, or what have you, it really does boil down to the same thing, I think.

Some of us are too nice. Part of this is our personality (also looked into the Enneagram) and some of this is learned behavior and surviving a situation where we were brought up by people with a narcissistic bent (to put it nicely).

If that's the case, (and I bet it is for most people reading here) the trick now is to let yourself shine, as best you can. Just as it is understood you put on your own breathing mask if there is an emergency in a plane, and then put on the breathing mask of others around you who need your help, so in life we empaths needs to understand that we must put ourselves first.

Since I also study spirituality and seek to live that life, of course we don't become selfish ourselves. We need to live in balance, caring for ourselves at the same time as we keep in mind and attend to those other people in our lives. Another way to say this is that we put boundaries in place. We do all the caring things but we don't let people walk all over us. Maybe we did this to survive as children, but we don't have to keep doing the same things as adults.

As we come to know ourselves intimately, what triggers us, where the wounds are, we come to see that we don't have to absorb the behavior of others all too willing to hurt us or ignore us to boost themselves up. Instead, we observe them. We become a bit detached, in a good way, because now we are differentiated from them. We know where we end and they start. We build a strong backbone. We become strong at the same time as we stay warm and tender. These are not people who can change. We are people who can change, grow and mature.

It definitely isn't easy. It was very hard for me. But, I assure you, it is entirely possible. Check out The Avaiya University online for tonnes of material.

We are in a period of huge transition in every way. It's a very hard time for nearly all people, but I am betting on the fact that this is a reality check we, unfortunately, needed to have and that good people will come forth to make the changes for our world that need to be made.

Selfishness and greed won't go away. People like this have and will always be with us, but I think we have a good chance to reevaluate where we are and what we have to do as a Universe. We need every good person now to be counted. That's why you need to heal, energize and ready yourself. The world needs every good person in this fight.

A positive direction in perilous circumstances

In this troubling time, when nothing seems quite solid, reliable or certain, I believe we need extra heavy doses of positivity, gratitude, courage and endurance.

Of course, we should all be sensible and careful. We should wash our hands regularly and distance ourselves from other people in ways that make sense - working from home and staying home, wherever possible. We need to be vigilant about keeping our immune systems healthy. There is plenty of information on the Internet as to how to do this.

My contribution is simply to say that this too shall pass; that we have to get through this, that when the crisis is over, the opportunity is there to come out of it better than before, depending on one's interpretation of  'better'.

This crisis is a medical emergency and we must be vigilant. This crisis is also a moral and spiritual opportunity. We either take that opportunity and run with it or we allow fear to overtake us.

I belong to a group and the following was the offering to the members of the group this morning by the leader of the group. I just loved it and would like to offer it here to anyone who passes by these parts:


“And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently.
"And the people healed. And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.
"And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed."
~Kitty O'Meara

Be well. Be happy.  Be safe. Have faith.

Order, disorder, reorder

I woke early and slipped out of bed with my novel, 'Wide Sargasso Sea' to read on the couch underneath a warm woolen blanket. In the quiet of the early morning I was fully engaged with the novel, the unraveling of the first Mrs Rochester (of Jane Eyre fame), when I became aware of the experience of sitting there in the quiet and the very distinct sound of bird song close by; some traffic sounds from much further away.

I registered that the sounds were coming to me clearly, as clearly as if I was engaged with conversation with someone right beside me. It was as if a portal had opened in my mind, a portal that brought with it clarity.

So profound was this experience, and yet so simple and everyday, that I turned away from the book and simply sat in the experience of living this moment.

It may be insignificant to the reader but as a meditation teacher it is significant to me, that I made no observation of my breathing, highlighting the fact that as we have revelations in a meditative or contemplative state of mind, that our transformative thought is all that draws our attention. We are fully immersed and engaged with that experience of the mind. The body doesn't come into it.

This was pointed out to me by a wonderful visiting meditation teacher from the USA and came as a surprise to us as students, but she is absolutely correct.

In a theoretical way I knew what I am about to say, but theory and practice are two very different things. As I sat there, silent and alert, it occurred to me that I was living this moment of my life. The past was truly the past and unless I particularly wanted to do so, there was no good reason to think about it.

I considered, 'if I didn't engage with the past, I didn't engage either with difficult moments from the past. In essence, if I didn't engage with the past, I also didn't need to think about, or assess or analyze events from the past which had been painful.' I know what I know, of course, but when living in the moment, so what?

It was like I had an eraser and all the writing of the blackboard, the complicated formula that had taken up the blackboard was brushed away, leaving a blank slate on which to write again.

It also occurred to me that in this present moment awareness I had full acceptance of myself. I wasn't flawed. I hadn't been neglected. I didn't have doubts.  I simply sat. (This, by the way, is the mindset of 'the doll'.)

This transformative thought happened at 7am and it is now 2pm. It wasn't just a flash in the pan. It feels more embedded as the day progresses.

As I communicated with people throughout the morning, this profundity was my constant companion. I was acutely aware that I was my own entity, empty in a sense, and thus in some way, available to them and yet untouched by them. I mean this in a good way. I was untouchable, in the sense that neither good news or bad news seemed to effect me one way or the other.

Words are hard to describe all this but I would say that I was looking out at the world not as me with a constantly thinking brain but as an observer; free floating.

Father Rohr, a Franciscan friar, talks about transformation having three components: order, disorder and reorder. To use his words I would say that this morning I had a sense of what that meant; that the disorder (the suffering) had somehow become reordered. On one level it blows my mind. On another, I am so chilled it's almost too subtle and smooth as to be an event.

Healing

There is a saying that you can't heal what you can't see. This is why I went searching for answers about how I felt because I knew what I felt wasn't how I wanted to feel, and intuitively I understood that I needed to know where I had been to begin to heal.

I've read a number of books now on topics that seemed related to my circumstances. There was marginal assistance through the psychology sessions I have had but nothing directly related to a full understanding of my circumstances and certainly no advice was administered as to what to do. In other words, there was no diagnosis and no treatment plan.

However, I feel quite clear about what happened to me now and this is a great blessing, to see the history clearly. This is profound.

I think when the brain has been subjected to thinking in a certain way over a long period of time - I am in my early 60s - it is not realistic to think that I won't have some tough moments going forward, but I definitely feel grateful to have understanding, and so long as I am kind to myself, which I see as vital, I think there is much reason to be hopeful that the shame and blame that I put on myself will fade.

It was difficult to say the least to learn that it was my inner critic that kept me in torment. I blamed myself for not being stronger and more resilient, whereas now I am learning to turn that message around:

"Things were difficult for you for no fault of your own. You had to survive, and you did what you could to survive. Now, new strategies are needed to thrive. And, you are putting those strategies in place. Be proud of yourself."

Without going into too much boring detail about my reading and understanding here's what I discovered:

- Although my parents loved me in an overarching way (the feeling was no doubt in their hearts) I was not given a childhood. I have no memories of being kissed, cuddled, held. I have no memories of being read to at night, or being tucked into bed. I didn't eat with my parents. My parents demanded that their two children be as little effort as possible and so I closed down my emotions, was 'good'.

- I began to masturbate at a very early age and this was my attempt at 'self-soothing'. My childhood environment did not provide me with a sense of safety and masturbating myself to sleep became a survival strategy for me; a way of soothing my troubled mind that was flooded with chemicals that made my body and mind anxiety prone.

- I am kinky and this is now hard wired and cannot be alerted. Fear and sexual arousal at a certain point intertwined.I don't seek to alter it. It is obvious, day by day, that I am aroused in a 'feel good' and sexual way when I have an overt sense of ownership. I want to be 'attached' to my husband. He gets this, fortunately. He is comfortable with it. I have shared my understandings with him.

- I was susceptible to having my attachment system activated due to the lack of mother love. I was also susceptible to having my inner critic activated and exacerbated. It hadn't occurred to me that the lack of mother love repercussions were the fault of my parents but rather I blamed myself, unconsciously. I now understand the thoughts. I wasn't lovable. I wasn't worthy of love. I wasn't pretty enough, or sexual enough. Importantly, I needed to be pleasing. I had learned this as a child. If you don't act how they want you to act, they reject you.

- In short, I was highly vulnerable to any sort of narcissistic behavior of another; to love-bombing, to verbal abuse; manipulation. My trained sense of loyalty to people, even when they behaved in a  selfish and unloving way made me feel that I needed to find even more tolerance and strength for toxic behavior.

- What I came to see was that in the end it wasn't about the Other. It was about the fact that I had failed to understand that any disrespectful behavior towards me should have been a red flag on which I acted to create a boundary against the toxicity of the relationship.

- I was kind of right. It was all my fault, no matter what the training of my childhood. You see, I can't change the behavior of others, but I can change my behavior and in this way I can change how I feel. It is in my power to say no to a sense of blame and shame, to have some control over the depression; to say yes to a sense of personal power; to have respect for myself.

This is a game changer. I can't say I won't have tough days. I know I will. But, there's a huge sense of power over my destiny now.

I am eternally grateful to Kelly McDaniel who wrote 'Ready to Heal: Breaking Free of Addictive Relationships' and to Abdul Saad of Vital Mind Psychology who has free on You Tube videos that have helped me so much.

There are very good people in the world. Of this, I have no doubt. If you have struggled in a similar way to the way I have struggled, I encourage you to seek your answers. Once you know what in fact happened to you, you are on your way to healing. Know that you are not alone. You deserve to be happy.

Being decisive

There has been a burst of action in my life. I think feelings had been building up  for me for some time so that when I really felt them with full force, action, not words so much as action, was easier than I ever imagined it could be.

For one piece of action, which came more like a decision, a decision to take no further action, it was decisive, but sad. I knew I had to make the decision. I knew I didn't have a choice. I felt strong. I felt a bit like a Warrior, protective of myself, and that part felt good. There was the smaller and more vulnerable part of me that felt sad, but the Warrior won, and I felt proud that that part of me insisted on being decisive and clear.

How it took as long as it did, well that's another story; a painful one. But, the decision was made to end the pain, like a surgeon saying that the patient would need to lose a leg but he could save his life. I haven't heard of anyone that said 'No, no, just leave me to die with everything intact' and I made the same decision.

For the second piece of action, I have turned the other cheek with a friend over the past few years. Conflict avoidant, I had chosen to not speak what I thought, any number of times, although I registered the intuitive thought that something was not right there, in the things she said. She's ratty at times; short tempered and comes across as fragile in a sense, but she's also a strong defender of herself. She has trouble seeing how she comes across and I recognized some time ago that she wasn't going to find a man, because there aren't perfect men/people out there, and that's what she insists upon. She must have gone through a dozen or more in the past few years.

The weird thing is she's good too. She works in the caring industry and she does good work on the whole, as far as I can tell. She does snuff off people along the way because she so wants her own way and most people don't want that sort of conflict in a relationship/friendship, but I chose to ignore the trait, until now. I guess I didn't process how much it bothered me. Or, maybe I was taking the bottom down position yet again and found myself tired of the view from there...

But, she turned on me this evening and said some truly awful things by text over the course of the evening. She sees me as a competitor which I said was a silly thing to do and she just kept upping the ante. The thing is a couple of people gave me praise for what I do, and what she does, and as far as she was concerned any praise for me, even though I am the new kid on the block with loads to learn, was a reason for her to garner more control; ensure I held my place in the pecking order, below her.

In the end, she acted like a domineering, son of a bitch Narcissist telling me what I was and wasn't go to do, and with full clarity and precision of thought I texted back that I wasn't planning to adhere to her demands and that our friendship was over.

(It's the morning and I don't regret this decision although I am sad about it. Something deep inside me tells me to defend that vulnerable part inside of me. My husband, furious about the way she treated me 'I told you she'd do this one day...', wanted to go and tell her off, and you have to love his protective streak, but no, I am standing up for myself.)

I've seen her behave with people in this way before, a number of times, and I kept my own counsel about it, but what's clear is that something has cleared in me.

I can speak up. I can protect myself if necessary. I have agency in this world.

In the past, I've been a Mamma Bear for my kids. I've stood up and protected them. But, it's a very rare day in my life when I stand up for myself in this way, and twice in two days! That's some sort of miracle. There is some sort of transformation going on. I may be growing up.

Feeling into the authentic appetite

I can reject my own appetite; my own responses to stimulus. If I feel that my authentic self is tied up with what I see as the difficulties of needing someone to be in a particular way, I see no other option than to try to not need that part of myself.

Yet when the planets align, it is as if no amount of effort to be some other way could ever come to anything. When I feel the presence of Dominance, dished out like a favourite meal, my mind and my body react in just the same way as ever. Like, ahhh, rice pudding, what a treat, dominance hits just the right spot.

And, I noticed on Tumblr just now, after some considerable time, a tumblr blog that made me hold my breath. Perhaps I have held my breath a thousand times before, when my heart does a little dance, but today, fresh from a double yoga class, my mind registered it; the pleasure; the connection of two souls in some way, if only for a moment; if only through words and images that resonated so instinctively.

At this time when the news is all about Prince Harry I find myself feeling that we all need to be comfortable in our skin. That comfort starts with accepting ourselves as we are; just as we are.

Life's work

If it is true that we are all working on something, our 'journey' through this life, then my thing is 'speaking my truth'. This is true on a psychological, emotional and spiritual level.

My daughter and her little family have been staying with me, just me, for the others are on an adventure. She pointed out to me that I sometimes give off a feeling of holding onto something. She noted this as a sense of discomfort in the air and urged me to speak my truth.

I explained to her that I had no experience with this as a child and that my experience with it as an adult provided me with further proof that it isn't a good policy. I explained that I fear the reaction to my truth.

She felt that I had to try nonetheless, to practice. So, I explained that having her dogs here was not easy for a number of reasons, which I outlined. She acknowledged this information without saying very much about it.  I felt a wee bit better, but I continue to feel (which I didn't say) that one dog in particular needs to see a dog behaviorist, because I feel another 10 years of not allowing it off the lead in parks seemed a far too limited life and unreasonably stressful for the adults walking it.

Today, I messaged a friend to see if she wanted to meet for lunch in her neighborhood  and being someone au fait with past lives she shared with me for the first time what she felt were my past lives. I had been chatting about this huge difficulty of mine to express my truth and that's when she said that I had had that difficulty for a number of lives.

'Feeling that sense of choking in my throat?' I asked. She nodded.

I didn't ask for details. I don't want to know, but I am open to letting something, if anything, evolve in a meditative way over time.

As well today, I shared that I had been remembering my dreams over the past week or more and that this was most unusual for me. I had been remembering them in some detail and it seemed to have a common theme, that I was interested in 'charm', trying to charm people that  I didn't like, or to take an alternative view, trying to like someone I didn't like; to start the relationship over. It's about two men - the only two men I truly dislike, and co-incidentally both once lived on my street.

She said it was to do with the universe's movements, or something or other. I was happy to listen but I don't understand that cosmic sort of belief system.

Anyways, for the first time ever I found myself looking up, 'how to access past lives' and listened to a couple of fairly quick explanations which relate to getting very still in mind and body and seeing what comes up, more or less.

I am comfortable in saying that I only ever have had one experience of sort of slightly touching on a past life. I was in New Zealand a few years ago and in the process of a mostly silent retreat.  After lunch, my choice with part of my free time was to climb the mountain of the retreat on my own. I know I loved this time. I distinctly remember stopping at a little bridge in the thick of  the enclosed landscape of palms and trees, a little water gurgling along below the short wooden bridge, and thinking, 'Remember this', which is something I do when I feel a complete sense of peace.

I had reached the Sanctuary, sat for a while on a bench, and was making my way back when two things happened. First of all, I felt I was walking along with my husband. His presence was profoundly with me; not in body but in spirit.

(And, co-incidentally, during a meditation hour at my yoga studio last night my mind returned to this experience in such a grounded way that I made a loose fist with my left hand, much as I would if I was holding his hand.)

A little further down towards the retreat centre it occurred to me quite spontaneously...perhaps in a past life I had been a slave, or, a member of royalty. I tried to feel into both states but a slave seemed more authentic. It was no more than that, a momentary glimpse.

If it could possibly be so, and I have held my tongue, swallowed my words for goodness knows how many lives, this has some resonance for me. Above all things, this seems to be my work in this life, in any case.

I somehow think that I have been attracted to people who cannot accept my words, thereby making this work as difficult as it could possibly be. Here we are, me who fears so deeply the upset that comes from speaking my truth and the other who struggles so to hear any words that might suggest they have a flaw, or that I am criticizing them.

Ram Dass or Eckhart Tolle or the Budda or the Dalai Lama would say of this that this is what makes them so important in my life; they are helping me overcome this struggle, once and for all.

If all of this has an ounce of truth about it, then to live my best life I need to learn this lesson - to speak my truth without the fear, the overwhelming fear of being rejected, annihilated, abandoned, rebuked.

A more 'feet on the ground' proposal, one that my psychologist, who I currently don't see, would propose is quite simply that my childhood experiences ensured that this was always going to be difficult for me.

In the end PP didn't see a point in seeing me any more but rather seeing my husband. This is bearing some fruit, it must surely be so, since we have been talking away in a very heart-centred way; him listening to me quietly as I reveal things that I have held onto.

Just before he left for Europe, maybe two days before that, I found myself telling him of the time I returned home from, I think, a school trip to discover that my mother had either sold or given away my books. This came as a terrible shock but what I missed deeply, then and now, was a book given to me by my ballet master. Before he dismissed us after class on that particular day, he had asked us to take a seat on the wooden floor. Sitting there in our pink leotards and tights he said that he wanted to give a reward to the girl who had made great improvement over the term and he called out my name.

This was a beautiful moment for me. The book was in black and white, of the Bolshoi Ballet with a note from him on the inside cover. It meant a great deal to me. In my absence, my mother had whisked it away from me, out of my life, my hands.

I said to my husband when I spoke about this a few weeks ago, 'why did she do that?' and of course he didn't have a definite answer. I have had two theories over time. Perhaps most likely is that she simply didn't know me; had no idea how much the book meant to me; the books, my alternative life. It's hard to handle the second theory; that the books were too beloved by me, had to go; that my attention needed to be directed more on her.

The point is I absorbed the emotional pain of it. I didn't criticize my mother, had learned earlier that my psyche wouldn't survive doing that. I stayed silent.

Last night, I did a double yoga class, yin and then yoga nidra/meditation and the teacher asked us, 'what is it that you are holding onto?' 'what is it that you are not sharing?'

My answer is that I desperately needed time to myself, which was cut short by my daughter and her little family needing to be with me for 10 days, leaving me with precious few days on my own before the guys get back.

If I review my choices, I chose, when not alone, the yoga studio, and a spiritual friend or two. I visited my mother for a few days out of duty, nothing more. I avoided friends; happily chatted briefly to strangers in the market and such, and listened for hours to Jack Kornfield on the Internet. My treat was 'Mad Men', gobbles of it.

If I am holding back anything at this point it's my creativity. A quiet mind seems right. I adore listening to stories on the radio or podcasts, far more than I want to create a story or to work with my story on the page in story form. I think that might be because just when I think I have 'solved' my story, got the right spin on it, the story changes; another peeling of the onion makes the last edition redundant.

For years now I have been working on this thought, seeking the answer. Is a bad family better than no family? We all need to come from somewhere, and it's a universal need to belong. Yet, what if we limit ourselves with this thought and open ourselves up to the thought that we belong to creation, the universal family. If there are past lives, how can the point be this family, but rather this soul.