When I was in my early twenties I had to re-invent my whole life. At the time I was living in a religious community. My life revolved around the people and activities within this community apart from my work as an engineer which brought in a useful income. Tithing was practised by all working members of the community to help support those whose service was full time but otherwise unpaid.
Volunteering was expected and I gladly played my part in helping at the local school for kids with both cerebral palsy and behavioural problems, taught at the Sunday school, was a youth leader/counsellor, using my holidays to take underprivileged kids away to the seaside, and various other things. Life was full and busy. I was mostly happy in this time.
Living in a community involves an unusually high level of external awareness. You have to anticipate likely problems and deal with them before they become big, otherwise disharmony takes root and small issues become huge bones of contention. Sometimes this causes you to loose focus on yourself. This was always encouraged as self absorption was seen as an entirely negative thing. Questioning the basis of the ideology/theology practised was also largely discouraged. It was this aspect of group living that I struggled with the most.
Oh I wanted to believe what I was being told. Really I did. But the lack of evidence and logic gradually whittled away my confidence/faith until I was no longer sure that there was a good foundation for anything I was being told. Even so since I was mostly happy there I quelled my pedantic and inquisitive nature as best I could for the sake of harmony. I liked living there and feeling so accepted in this group. I've never felt that in my life since that time.
I was engaged to a lovely man who had felt the call to work alongside those distributing bibles in eastern block communist led countries. He was to be away for 2 - 3 years and we had planned to marry on his return. Whilst away he met his true soul mate and wrote to tell me of this change in his circumstances. I was not heartbroken. We had already been apart for nearly a year by this time and I'd grown used to his absense. It's funny really that I knew then what I struggle to know now ... that two people must be fully committed for a relationship to flourish.
When my now ex-fiance next wrote it was to ask me to provide accommodation for his girlfriend. She was on the run from an abusive husband who had been physically violent towards her. She needed a safe place to stay whilst she filed for divorce ... away from friends and family. He trusted me and I honoured that trust.
Being part of a community means you have to conform to the conventions of behaviour within the group. On becoming aware that I was housing a fugitive, and more ... a married woman on the run from her husband, I was told in no uncertain terms that I must desist immediately and force this woman to return to her husband. On the face of it this might sound heartless but the aim was that they might be able to work out their problems with the help of a christian minister/counsellor. I refused to send her back to that man. Instead I gave her the option of staying as long as she needed to. Things escalated from there until one afternoon when I was called before the elders. I was given the stark choice of complying or leaving. I was condoning sin and that was not to be tolerated.
So I left. I arranged for my new friend to stay with my ex-fiances family. They welcomed her and kept her safe. All told she's only stayed with me for about 4 months or so.
And from there my life changed forever.
Only two people from the community would be brave enough to defy convention and stay in touch with me. Ultimately both left some time later of their own accord. In a matter of hours I lost my home, my friends, my already teetering faith. At the time it felt like the end of the world. In reality it forced me to live in the world in a way I'd never have had the chance to if I'd carried on living in the community. Until you spread your wings you've no idea whether you have the strength to fly or not.
When I think about radically changing my life now I look at the woman I was back then with a kind of awe. She was so determined to do what she thought was right regardless of the consequences or personal cost. Where has that woman gone? I can't seem to find any trace of her in this faded facsimile.
Regret
When I gave my heart to you
I never thought I'd take it back
I always assumed in my usual way
that this was the very nature
of the promise we made together
and it was, and I don't regret it
My heart has been in safe hands
but never in perfect hands
where in the world do we find
what we never knew we needed
because we thought we needed safety
and we did, and I don't regret it
Time, why do we always end up different
with the passage of time
and yet assume that nothing changes
having built a place of such safety
we've been able to flourish and grow
so we have, and I don't regret it
Except I do, I do regret a lot of things
the distance that's grown between us
the distance my heart has wandered
making me wonder it's got to that time
when I should hand your heart back to you
and if I do, will I regret it
I feel that your heart is no longer safe
as it always used to be in my keeping
and whilst I still honour the gift of it
I have not done all I could have
to honour the spirit in which it was given
I could have, and I do regret this
From here the way forward is unclear
the temptation to tarry is so strong
this fear of putting another foot wrong
and most of all that one more step
might take me beyond the point of no return
from there there'll be no point in regrets
The courage it takes to look into your heart
is of little use if you lack the wherewithal
to accept what it is telling you
in turn what point is there in knowledge
if not that it calls out to be acted upon
and if not, what sorry tales of regret await the teller
The short necked giraffe
If a leopard does not notice her own spots
then is it not possible that she might
take herself for another creature entirely
she might for example think herself to be
an exceptionally short necked giraffe
with perhaps unusually short legs as well
whose tastebuds have gone a little wonky
so that she doesn't really like eating leaves
the youngest tenderest twigs hold little appeal
but still she doesn't think it in the least bit odd
as she looks with a more than passing interest
at some passing herd of antelope or zebra
Our leopard can see some differences though
she is not altogether as dull witted as it seems
she notices that the other giraffes like to hang out
whereas she is more of the solitary kind
the stay up all night on the prowl kind
not inclined to gather round tall trees for a chat
nor walk in stately fashion under the midday sun
instead our short-necked short-legged giraffe
likes to loll about in the half light of shade
surveying the savanna in what one might say
was not in the least in a giraffe-like way
How does one arrive at self awareness
what sort of event must befall our non-giraffe
before she awakens to the facts of her hitherto
unsuspected but undeniably true inherent nature
and supposing our non-giraffe doesn't want
to be a spotted non-herbivore one, what then?
to have to re-invent yourself is not any easier
just because you are what you have been all along
especially if you didn't know you are what you are
and always thought you were what you weren't
leopards might shrug it off but can a would-have-been giraffe?
Your words
Your words are like the air
seemingly insubstantial
there in the moment
and then gone
dissipated
without words though
how would we give flight
to our thoughts
Here your words are written down
and not just here
for I re-write them
in my heart
I horde them
garner them
use them to fill my small dinghy
so I can set sail once more
Your words help to keep me afloat
in the choppy seas
that surround the coastline
of my life
they give me courage
to set a course
beyond the safe harbour
outside of the inland waters
Your words are like an extra hand
helping me to steady the tiller
lending strength and more
they help me to fashion a purpose
your re-assuring presence
is a source of warmth
when colder winds blow
a voice in the silent void
Your words are like laughter
in the fine times
filling the sails
spinning us around
so that we can set off
in joyful pursuit
of the moon
shining low on the horizon
Your words are soaked in compassion
they undo an essential tightness in me
causing this sense of unravelling
and release
however often it feels
that I am alone in my thoughts
you come alongside me
with your words
Rules
Mutual exclusivity is at the heart of some of the most difficult choices we face in life. Or so it seems to me. And why? Because of rules. Apparently we can't have our cake and eat it too. That's the rule.
Up until a couple of years ago I never questioned the direction in which my moral compass pointed. I trusted that I would know right from wrong and mostly do right as a result of this knowledge.
Mostly. No one is perfect.
Have you ever been in a situation where you knew you were doing wrong even when it felt completely right? It's like being turned inside out. Stuff you barely knew you were suppressing inside yourself becomes visible. By demanding consideration this has the potential to be life changing. If you let it.
But it doesn't have to be. It can be that I know these things and yet still choose not to act upon them. I could follow the rules. Like I usually do (mostly).
Rules are important. Without them we have chaos. Chaos is bad. Right? Maybe it's only some kinds of chaos that are bad. Maybe I think it's bad because of my past. I haven't re-evaluated my assumptions about chaos since they were first formed. Maybe bad is meaningless. A simple construct formed for simple minds like mine. Or maybe chaos is good.
Chaotic behaviour scares me. Especially my own.
Rules have helped keep me safe. If I can just work out what they are then I can follow them. If I follow them well enough then I steer clear of the worst kinds of trouble. Right? I can see how infantile that thought process is. I recognise the girl who thought that ... who thinks that still.
Rules are my magnetic north pole. Everything makes at least some kind of sense to me if I know enough about the rules. Without them I am not sure ... of anything.
The funny thing about breaking things down so you can think about them in isolation is that in so doing you take at least some of the rules out of the equation altogether. It's not like I don't understand that. But putting the pieces back together involves seeing them in context ... as a whole. How do you do that without rules? Is there meaning without rules?
If I break the rules ...
It's like this brick wall in my mind slams against that thought. Almost everything in me wants to stick to the rules.
Except my heart.
Unless we re-evaluate things then we will carry on thinking of them in the same way we always did.
Enough thinking for today I think.
Except to say this. I am richly blessed in my blogging friends. It is clear to me that individually you have wisdom beyond my imagining. Taken collectively it is quite extraordinary. I so appreciate those of you who take the time to read and comment. The help this has given me defies description.
Thank you. xx Jos
More ponderings
What is real and what unreal. How do you tell the difference. How do you trust what your heart is telling you if your head is yelling a different message entirely. And what if a large part of your heart wants to believe what your head is telling you anyway? Because it's easier. Simpler.
But is it truthful?
Can a heart be in two minds?
To put these questions seems like an academic exercise and yet the answers have much bearing on my current state of mind. I am feeling increasingly unsettled in my life just now. Unhappy and I'm trying to work out why ... but in typical fashion I am doing so whilst trying to maintain the status quo at home which feels deceitful in the most fundamental way.
And yet if I don't know what I truly want then how can I do otherwise.
It's like I keep creeping towards the edge of this enormous chasm knowing that I may have to find my way across but without the faintest idea what lies either within it or beyond it. Which seems totally ridiculous really. Even to me.
Why don't I just shut these thoughts down and concentrate on what's at hand. Living my life in much the same was as ever before. With Trev none the wiser and mostly unscathed by the vagaries of my heart.
I could do that.
Even sitting down and discussing our present "difficulties" over the weekend resulted in the most horrendous scenes. Screaming at me "What do you want? What do I want? Christ alive can't we just get on with it without all this carry on about feelings and all that shit?" Slam dunk. Back to the books. Silence. Simmering silence followed by an absense of some two weeks now. Time to re-group.
I can hardly imagine what would occur if I were to ponder aloud as I am able to do here though. I think it would be fair to say that it's not something to be entered into lightly. So I don't.
I feel the need to explore these feelings but I'm not sure how to do so without causing harm or deceit. Squaring the circle ... is life ever easy? It's as easy as you want to make it. I know the sense in that point of view.
My heart is telling me that the reason I can't suppress these other feelings is because they are real. Valid. That even though they started from events that happened in a state of unreality they have solidified over time rather than vapourised as they should have done with a more distant perspective. That if they weren't real I wouldn't keep returning to them, turning them over in my mind as if hoping to find a new way to diminish them. Put the lid back on this Pandora's box.
My head is telling me that experiences gone through whilst in the fug of drinking are unreal and therefore attaching the weight of reality to them is an exercise in self-delusion. That my own inexperience is at the root of why I am still ... over two years on ... giving this a weight it really should never have had. I think this may well be true but how can I be sure? Inexperience is self-limiting in it's effect.
One way to test this hypothesis is to repeat the experience but with a clear head. Which I can't do so even thinking about it is pointless.
Why can't I?
There are so many reasons. Even putting aside the question of right and wrong ... of re-crossing the boundary of loving faithfulness within marriage (which I'm not for one second going to attempt to justify) am I the kind of person that can use another without having regard for them?
No, I don't believe I am.
But doesn't that pre-suppose that the other has much the same set of core values as I do? How likely is that? How relevant is that? To go against my own core values pre-supposes that I think it's worth it to find out something I probably already know. And that is that life is not simple. That decisions are an active choice of cutting off one possibility in favour of another.
Funny thing is I thought I'd already settled this decision some while ago. Shut off from one possibility in favour of the other. My heart refuses to let my mind have it's way on this. It demands it's right of appeal.
But is it truthful?
Can a heart be in two minds?
To put these questions seems like an academic exercise and yet the answers have much bearing on my current state of mind. I am feeling increasingly unsettled in my life just now. Unhappy and I'm trying to work out why ... but in typical fashion I am doing so whilst trying to maintain the status quo at home which feels deceitful in the most fundamental way.
And yet if I don't know what I truly want then how can I do otherwise.
It's like I keep creeping towards the edge of this enormous chasm knowing that I may have to find my way across but without the faintest idea what lies either within it or beyond it. Which seems totally ridiculous really. Even to me.
Why don't I just shut these thoughts down and concentrate on what's at hand. Living my life in much the same was as ever before. With Trev none the wiser and mostly unscathed by the vagaries of my heart.
I could do that.
Even sitting down and discussing our present "difficulties" over the weekend resulted in the most horrendous scenes. Screaming at me "What do you want? What do I want? Christ alive can't we just get on with it without all this carry on about feelings and all that shit?" Slam dunk. Back to the books. Silence. Simmering silence followed by an absense of some two weeks now. Time to re-group.
I can hardly imagine what would occur if I were to ponder aloud as I am able to do here though. I think it would be fair to say that it's not something to be entered into lightly. So I don't.
I feel the need to explore these feelings but I'm not sure how to do so without causing harm or deceit. Squaring the circle ... is life ever easy? It's as easy as you want to make it. I know the sense in that point of view.
My heart is telling me that the reason I can't suppress these other feelings is because they are real. Valid. That even though they started from events that happened in a state of unreality they have solidified over time rather than vapourised as they should have done with a more distant perspective. That if they weren't real I wouldn't keep returning to them, turning them over in my mind as if hoping to find a new way to diminish them. Put the lid back on this Pandora's box.
My head is telling me that experiences gone through whilst in the fug of drinking are unreal and therefore attaching the weight of reality to them is an exercise in self-delusion. That my own inexperience is at the root of why I am still ... over two years on ... giving this a weight it really should never have had. I think this may well be true but how can I be sure? Inexperience is self-limiting in it's effect.
One way to test this hypothesis is to repeat the experience but with a clear head. Which I can't do so even thinking about it is pointless.
Why can't I?
There are so many reasons. Even putting aside the question of right and wrong ... of re-crossing the boundary of loving faithfulness within marriage (which I'm not for one second going to attempt to justify) am I the kind of person that can use another without having regard for them?
No, I don't believe I am.
But doesn't that pre-suppose that the other has much the same set of core values as I do? How likely is that? How relevant is that? To go against my own core values pre-supposes that I think it's worth it to find out something I probably already know. And that is that life is not simple. That decisions are an active choice of cutting off one possibility in favour of another.
Funny thing is I thought I'd already settled this decision some while ago. Shut off from one possibility in favour of the other. My heart refuses to let my mind have it's way on this. It demands it's right of appeal.
I want
I want a drink
not a skinful
but a wine rack full
and I've walked up to it
looked at my old foes
rows of shiny bottles
of liquid magic carpet
that could fly me away
from everything here
I want an escape
from this moment
to a whole new lifetime
so I can relearn
what it means to be me
and how to accept it
perhaps I can walk there
or wade in and swim
down this river of tears
I want to know
where there is
what there looks like
whether I will be happier
in the land of there
altered reality
seems far preferable
to having to bear
not believing in there
I want something more
without a clue
what it looks like
and so how
can I describe it to you
and how can I hope
for your understanding
when I don't understand
any of this either
Shall we instead
sit on the magic carpet
and hold one another
in a last bid
to reach inside the other
to find what was once
more than enough
or shall I hold your hand
and then let it go
I want to tear myself in two
that's what I want
so I can have it all
except then
I would only be part
of the whole
there seems little point
in crying
over half measures
not a skinful
but a wine rack full
and I've walked up to it
looked at my old foes
rows of shiny bottles
of liquid magic carpet
that could fly me away
from everything here
I want an escape
from this moment
to a whole new lifetime
so I can relearn
what it means to be me
and how to accept it
perhaps I can walk there
or wade in and swim
down this river of tears
I want to know
where there is
what there looks like
whether I will be happier
in the land of there
altered reality
seems far preferable
to having to bear
not believing in there
I want something more
without a clue
what it looks like
and so how
can I describe it to you
and how can I hope
for your understanding
when I don't understand
any of this either
Shall we instead
sit on the magic carpet
and hold one another
in a last bid
to reach inside the other
to find what was once
more than enough
or shall I hold your hand
and then let it go
I want to tear myself in two
that's what I want
so I can have it all
except then
I would only be part
of the whole
there seems little point
in crying
over half measures
Risks ... why is it always about risks?
This weekend my gentle man and I are going to have a talk. The kind where we are both adult and have some decisions to make about ... crikey well about everything really. Things have never been quite this bad I guess . Or more accurately, we've never been in a place where we both acknowledge this fact.
Two weeks ago Trevor told me that he thought "everything" was falling apart. My initial response was not helpful. I said "Jeezusssss, you only just noticed?" ... or words to that effect. I'm not proud of my reaction. It's characteristic of what happens when I feel suddenly and unexpectedly under threat when already feeling up to my eyeballs stress-wise. I snap out an attacking phrase instead of pausing for thought.
After months and months of hardly talking about anything at all, here at last was an opening. I wasted that chance. But having said what he did, he couldn't unsay it. Sometimes that works to our advantage don't you find?
He didn't want to talk about it at that point and to be honest neither did I. I was shaken by him finally coming out with something I guess we've both been feeling for quite some time now. Not only that but he'd been drinking quite a bit so things said from that point on would not necessarily reflect the truth of his feelings.
Drinking magnifies the bad stuff and can often end up escalating small grievances into major meltdowns. Something about drinking frees the inner drama queen in us all I guess.
Why don't we talk more? Sometimes I think it's that we feel secure enough that we don't need to so much. A complacency sets in. I could prevaricate as an olympic sport, really I could.
We get scared. Both of us. Mostly the reason we don't talk is because of this. I used to think that it was solely my fear and that I was projecting it onto Trev. Years on I can see that really we are both quite child-like in the emotional sphere. It comforts me in some ways that I am not alone in this.
It's seems strange because in so many ways I trust Trev, and yet in some fundamental way I don't feel safe with him. This is not because of any failing on his part and I know this.
Neither wants to be the one to hurt the other and yet we are neither of us happy.
What to do.
Talk, that's what we have to do.
We put it off for a couple of weeks as he was on the cusp of a trip away. He's home later on today and then will be away again for the next couple of weeks. We have two days together this weekend before his next trip. Once this trip is out of the way he will be home again for the foreseeable future.
Sometimes we have to do the things we are most scared of. For me it is breaking out from this self-imposed protective shell of mine to tell the truth. In order to do that I have to find out what the truth is. This itself scares me.
I am scared of saying the wrong thing. Of causing needless damage and hurt by being careless ... saying things when I'm not entirely sure of my own feelings. Saying things is hard because it's irretrievable. It's a risk.
And there's this. Sometimes I only say things in response to what's said to me. In this way I abdicate my responsibility to be an equal partner in our relationship. I find it hard to put myself and my needs equal to his.
I find it hard to recognise what my own needs are for that matter.
I know at the root of this is a feeling of un-deservedness. And I know that recognising this is only the start point for addressing it. Another process to be gotten under way at some point.
I'm scared of discovering the source of my unhappiness. The nature of it. What if I can do something about it? You see, I can live with this unhappiness ... I'm used to it. I've had a lot of practice. It's safe in a funny sort of way. The status quo. But change, even change for the better is more than a little unsettling.
What if I have to go through a phase of enormous upheaval .... possibly causing deep hurt to someone I love more than I can describe. And what if it doesn't work? Is it worth the risk I wonder.
How many times have we started to break these barriers down only to revert to silence again when it gets too hard? How many false dawns do we endure before concluding that the effort is more than we can bear.
Maybe he's right. That it is all falling apart. That we have spent all these years simply building a house of cards. All facade and no substance. No weight. No depth or ballast to keep us stable. Happy.
Can we build something more sustainable? Does he want to? Do I? If not, what then?
Sometimes we build things up too much. We carry a weight of expectation that far exceeds anything that can be achieved by simply talking.
But we have to anyway.
Two weeks ago Trevor told me that he thought "everything" was falling apart. My initial response was not helpful. I said "Jeezusssss, you only just noticed?" ... or words to that effect. I'm not proud of my reaction. It's characteristic of what happens when I feel suddenly and unexpectedly under threat when already feeling up to my eyeballs stress-wise. I snap out an attacking phrase instead of pausing for thought.
After months and months of hardly talking about anything at all, here at last was an opening. I wasted that chance. But having said what he did, he couldn't unsay it. Sometimes that works to our advantage don't you find?
He didn't want to talk about it at that point and to be honest neither did I. I was shaken by him finally coming out with something I guess we've both been feeling for quite some time now. Not only that but he'd been drinking quite a bit so things said from that point on would not necessarily reflect the truth of his feelings.
Drinking magnifies the bad stuff and can often end up escalating small grievances into major meltdowns. Something about drinking frees the inner drama queen in us all I guess.
Why don't we talk more? Sometimes I think it's that we feel secure enough that we don't need to so much. A complacency sets in. I could prevaricate as an olympic sport, really I could.
We get scared. Both of us. Mostly the reason we don't talk is because of this. I used to think that it was solely my fear and that I was projecting it onto Trev. Years on I can see that really we are both quite child-like in the emotional sphere. It comforts me in some ways that I am not alone in this.
It's seems strange because in so many ways I trust Trev, and yet in some fundamental way I don't feel safe with him. This is not because of any failing on his part and I know this.
Neither wants to be the one to hurt the other and yet we are neither of us happy.
What to do.
Talk, that's what we have to do.
We put it off for a couple of weeks as he was on the cusp of a trip away. He's home later on today and then will be away again for the next couple of weeks. We have two days together this weekend before his next trip. Once this trip is out of the way he will be home again for the foreseeable future.
Sometimes we have to do the things we are most scared of. For me it is breaking out from this self-imposed protective shell of mine to tell the truth. In order to do that I have to find out what the truth is. This itself scares me.
I am scared of saying the wrong thing. Of causing needless damage and hurt by being careless ... saying things when I'm not entirely sure of my own feelings. Saying things is hard because it's irretrievable. It's a risk.
And there's this. Sometimes I only say things in response to what's said to me. In this way I abdicate my responsibility to be an equal partner in our relationship. I find it hard to put myself and my needs equal to his.
I find it hard to recognise what my own needs are for that matter.
I know at the root of this is a feeling of un-deservedness. And I know that recognising this is only the start point for addressing it. Another process to be gotten under way at some point.
I'm scared of discovering the source of my unhappiness. The nature of it. What if I can do something about it? You see, I can live with this unhappiness ... I'm used to it. I've had a lot of practice. It's safe in a funny sort of way. The status quo. But change, even change for the better is more than a little unsettling.
What if I have to go through a phase of enormous upheaval .... possibly causing deep hurt to someone I love more than I can describe. And what if it doesn't work? Is it worth the risk I wonder.
How many times have we started to break these barriers down only to revert to silence again when it gets too hard? How many false dawns do we endure before concluding that the effort is more than we can bear.
Maybe he's right. That it is all falling apart. That we have spent all these years simply building a house of cards. All facade and no substance. No weight. No depth or ballast to keep us stable. Happy.
Can we build something more sustainable? Does he want to? Do I? If not, what then?
Sometimes we build things up too much. We carry a weight of expectation that far exceeds anything that can be achieved by simply talking.
But we have to anyway.
Remembering Renée
I recollect your last words to me
I wonder if in timelessness
you have time to remember too
to miss those still missing you
to ponder on such earthly concerns
do peaceful hearts gone to rest
feel the faintest echo of an ache
Some days eternity seems so near
separated by only the sheerest
and flimsiest of partitions
a light curtain lifting in the breeze
as if heaven lies not beyond
but just here
the merest step away
I wonder what it's like
how it feels
whether you can see us
each one remembering you
storing your story in our hearts
an ever widening ripple
of being together strong
I re-visit your words sometimes
a trail of treasures leading me on
to an ever deeper understanding
and with it a greater thirst
to know more, break free
take to the air and fly
leave this heavy heart to lie
I am keeping to our promise
holding fast where faith falters
trusting when belief stumbles
that when time ceases for all time
my hopeful heart will have courage
enough to take flight
with my own set of wings
I wonder if in timelessness
you have time to remember too
to miss those still missing you
to ponder on such earthly concerns
do peaceful hearts gone to rest
feel the faintest echo of an ache
Some days eternity seems so near
separated by only the sheerest
and flimsiest of partitions
a light curtain lifting in the breeze
as if heaven lies not beyond
but just here
the merest step away
I wonder what it's like
how it feels
whether you can see us
each one remembering you
storing your story in our hearts
an ever widening ripple
of being together strong
I re-visit your words sometimes
a trail of treasures leading me on
to an ever deeper understanding
and with it a greater thirst
to know more, break free
take to the air and fly
leave this heavy heart to lie
I am keeping to our promise
holding fast where faith falters
trusting when belief stumbles
that when time ceases for all time
my hopeful heart will have courage
enough to take flight
with my own set of wings
Just today
I wonder if it is true that when we think back on things we've done ... things we find hard to comprehend in terms of our own behaviour, we fall prey to the temptation to re-invent history.
We re-cast ourselves as victims in scenarios where perhaps we were far more complicit than we'd like to admit ... and re-cast ourselves as heroes in scenarios where our behaviour fell very short of that mark ... and then if all that feels more comfortable we decide that that is what actually happened after all.
Am I the only one that does this? I hope so ... or maybe I hope not because then I'll know that it's not so unusual. Just another human failing. Ho hum.
If we can't undo what's done we can at least learn to be more honest with ourselves over what's gone on. Not with the intention of re-hashing old ground, nor with the intention of giving ourselves unnecessary grief over mistakes made, but to see if there are lessons to be learnt.
I guess it's part of taking ownership ... a phrase I've come to hate because of it's over-use in my workplace. Task ownership is the latest greatest buzz word bandied about at work ... our new corporate cult demanding of us all that we sing from it's hymn sheet. I sing off key at the best of times and never more so than when subjected to coercion.
Sometimes I feel deeply uncomfortable about things I've said and done. I am glad that my moral compass appears to be re-aligning itself towards values I recognise as being sustainable. I wish it were easier to forgive myself for letting it become so badly mis-aligned. I always knew better even when I didn't do better.
Recovery is an exhausting process, particularly in the early stages. It's a roller coaster of emotions, feeling kind of OK one day and then totally not OK the next. Some days I can't believe how hard it is. At times like this I recognise all over again how prone I am to turning and running away rather than face difficult truths. It's easy to forget to rationalise your thought processes when your brain is screaming nonsense at you.
And then I remember. Just today. I only have to do the work of one day today. Thank goodness for that!
We re-cast ourselves as victims in scenarios where perhaps we were far more complicit than we'd like to admit ... and re-cast ourselves as heroes in scenarios where our behaviour fell very short of that mark ... and then if all that feels more comfortable we decide that that is what actually happened after all.
Am I the only one that does this? I hope so ... or maybe I hope not because then I'll know that it's not so unusual. Just another human failing. Ho hum.
If we can't undo what's done we can at least learn to be more honest with ourselves over what's gone on. Not with the intention of re-hashing old ground, nor with the intention of giving ourselves unnecessary grief over mistakes made, but to see if there are lessons to be learnt.
I guess it's part of taking ownership ... a phrase I've come to hate because of it's over-use in my workplace. Task ownership is the latest greatest buzz word bandied about at work ... our new corporate cult demanding of us all that we sing from it's hymn sheet. I sing off key at the best of times and never more so than when subjected to coercion.
Sometimes I feel deeply uncomfortable about things I've said and done. I am glad that my moral compass appears to be re-aligning itself towards values I recognise as being sustainable. I wish it were easier to forgive myself for letting it become so badly mis-aligned. I always knew better even when I didn't do better.
Recovery is an exhausting process, particularly in the early stages. It's a roller coaster of emotions, feeling kind of OK one day and then totally not OK the next. Some days I can't believe how hard it is. At times like this I recognise all over again how prone I am to turning and running away rather than face difficult truths. It's easy to forget to rationalise your thought processes when your brain is screaming nonsense at you.
And then I remember. Just today. I only have to do the work of one day today. Thank goodness for that!
OK as a boy.
William is 5 years and 65 days old today. He told me so on the phone this morning. He is learning how to use a calender at school. He loves to tell me about the stuff he's been learning. He knows a willing listener when he sees one. Smart boy. I am one of his greatest fans. He wants me to come over after work to play trains.
We are master train track builders we two. William has a huge love of anything related to trains and has amassed quite some collection of tracks and locomotives over his short years.
Every week we spend a happy couple of hours working on our elaborate layouts ... double switch backs, reverse direction signal points, long span bridges ... William loves using these technical words indicating that he ... we ... are in the know. A club of two. Secret railway passwords are tossed between us as a form of code. It's his way of signalling to the others and particularly to his brother that this is William & Jos time ... no trespassers please.
Trains are set in motion in precise timings so as to facilitate a crash or derailment. Then we deploy our emergency vehicles and follow a pre-set protocol of who gets rescued first and with what. It's the familiarity and repetition that William loves. He can recite exactly what is supposed to happen next and wants it to be the same as last time ... down to the very last detail.
I know how comforting the familiar is and mostly I oblige ... except I sometimes introduce some very slight variation. Not always on purpose either. Switching the signals out of sequence or neglecting to swap the points over and suddenly the trains are in different places, arriving unexpectedly at stations before the road guard gates have been lowered. Coal trains are unaccountably shunted on to the passenger line and before you know it we have total chaos.
I love to watch Williams face as these unexpected events unfold. He is the picture of concentration as he strives to bring order back onto his railway network. He issues orders and expects me to carry out my tasks promptly and without complaint. One day he is going to be an awesome manager. He juggles things mentally incredibly well for a boy of his age.
What really astounds me though is his emotional control. William is a boy of extreme emotions and is given to expressing himself fully in this regard. His tantrums are legendary even in our somewhat explosive family. But in his role as captain of the railways William becomes an altogether different boy. Calm, deliberate and incisive.
Still he is a 5 year old boy. When I arrive after work I hear him behind the door as I fumble around for my keys. He chants ... "Jos is here Jos is here Jos is here" over and over. Oliver is becoming more sophisticated in his greetings these days but William is still at the launching himself full pelt at me stage. We are all one another's number one fans.
Sometimes one or other boy asks me which one of them I love the best. "That's simple" I say ... " I love you both beyond measure". "What's measure?" Ha! You can never ask too many questions can you?
William says I'd be OK as a boy. It is the highest compliment I've ever had from him. He looks over to see if I am pleased. I am. Very.
We are master train track builders we two. William has a huge love of anything related to trains and has amassed quite some collection of tracks and locomotives over his short years.
Every week we spend a happy couple of hours working on our elaborate layouts ... double switch backs, reverse direction signal points, long span bridges ... William loves using these technical words indicating that he ... we ... are in the know. A club of two. Secret railway passwords are tossed between us as a form of code. It's his way of signalling to the others and particularly to his brother that this is William & Jos time ... no trespassers please.
Trains are set in motion in precise timings so as to facilitate a crash or derailment. Then we deploy our emergency vehicles and follow a pre-set protocol of who gets rescued first and with what. It's the familiarity and repetition that William loves. He can recite exactly what is supposed to happen next and wants it to be the same as last time ... down to the very last detail.
I know how comforting the familiar is and mostly I oblige ... except I sometimes introduce some very slight variation. Not always on purpose either. Switching the signals out of sequence or neglecting to swap the points over and suddenly the trains are in different places, arriving unexpectedly at stations before the road guard gates have been lowered. Coal trains are unaccountably shunted on to the passenger line and before you know it we have total chaos.
I love to watch Williams face as these unexpected events unfold. He is the picture of concentration as he strives to bring order back onto his railway network. He issues orders and expects me to carry out my tasks promptly and without complaint. One day he is going to be an awesome manager. He juggles things mentally incredibly well for a boy of his age.
What really astounds me though is his emotional control. William is a boy of extreme emotions and is given to expressing himself fully in this regard. His tantrums are legendary even in our somewhat explosive family. But in his role as captain of the railways William becomes an altogether different boy. Calm, deliberate and incisive.
Still he is a 5 year old boy. When I arrive after work I hear him behind the door as I fumble around for my keys. He chants ... "Jos is here Jos is here Jos is here" over and over. Oliver is becoming more sophisticated in his greetings these days but William is still at the launching himself full pelt at me stage. We are all one another's number one fans.
Sometimes one or other boy asks me which one of them I love the best. "That's simple" I say ... " I love you both beyond measure". "What's measure?" Ha! You can never ask too many questions can you?
William says I'd be OK as a boy. It is the highest compliment I've ever had from him. He looks over to see if I am pleased. I am. Very.
100 days of living
Have you ever had to teach someone how to do something that you always thought was quite straight forward ... at least until you had to show someone else how to do said thing?
The approach I take is to break down the task into incremental steps, thus defining sub-tasks. I break these down in turn into sub-sub-tasks and keep doing that until we reach the comfort zone of the person being trained ... and ... eureka!
I just love to see mental cogs turn and then engage as the light dawns in their faces. It's great when they realise that far from being a complex task beyond their capabilities, it is in fact just a long sequence of relatively simple tasks that build one on the next one. If carried out in the correct way and in the right sequence the results are almost assured. That's the beauty of engineering.
Yesterday I was 100 days sober.
100 days is not a long time and in my own experience it is still very early days in what I hope will at long last be a lifetime of abstinence rather than something I play around at ...
... hoping it will right itself by itself ...
... by which I mean allowing myself to drink from time to time thinking that it's simply a matter of allowing an allocated number of days to elapse and I will have magically gained a better handle on all this. Forlorn hope and how stupid must a person be to think that? As stupid as I've been I guess. Such thinking has invariably led to my many lapses and relapses.
It's strange to find myself back in the kindergarten classes of recovery once again. Somehow even through the lapses and relapses of the last few years I thought I was further along on this journey than I turned out to be. That's OK, I am glad to be here ... especially given the alternatives on offer.
Dealing with an addiction is both simple and not. Life seems quite chaotic and unpredictable when we're held tightly in it's grip. Given time we start to see that whilst life itself is unpredictable addiction is so predictable as to be tediously so.
Simple is not the same as easy ... it never was. So why do I equate the two? Some thoughts are hard to dislodge.
Addiction is a bit like having a toddler living in your brain trying to dictate your life on it's terms ... whenever it doesn't get it's own way it throws all it's toys out of the pram and you end up fighting this thing within yourself. Some days all you can hear is the screaming.
It feels like a form of madness at the time and even in those times when you win through ... well even then you can end up feeling depleted and like a fool all at the same time. And yet I've rarely met another addict who really was a fool, except perhaps in regard to managing their own addiction.
I sometimes think about how I could have been so stupid as to have allowed myself to get in so deep. Well ... I think perhaps it's time to let go of that question. I allowed it and I can't undo that. I didn't mean for it to happen and that has to be enough of an answer for now.
Each day is simply a sub-sub-sub task in my process of recovery. I am grateful for today.
The approach I take is to break down the task into incremental steps, thus defining sub-tasks. I break these down in turn into sub-sub-tasks and keep doing that until we reach the comfort zone of the person being trained ... and ... eureka!
I just love to see mental cogs turn and then engage as the light dawns in their faces. It's great when they realise that far from being a complex task beyond their capabilities, it is in fact just a long sequence of relatively simple tasks that build one on the next one. If carried out in the correct way and in the right sequence the results are almost assured. That's the beauty of engineering.
Yesterday I was 100 days sober.
100 days is not a long time and in my own experience it is still very early days in what I hope will at long last be a lifetime of abstinence rather than something I play around at ...
... hoping it will right itself by itself ...
... by which I mean allowing myself to drink from time to time thinking that it's simply a matter of allowing an allocated number of days to elapse and I will have magically gained a better handle on all this. Forlorn hope and how stupid must a person be to think that? As stupid as I've been I guess. Such thinking has invariably led to my many lapses and relapses.
It's strange to find myself back in the kindergarten classes of recovery once again. Somehow even through the lapses and relapses of the last few years I thought I was further along on this journey than I turned out to be. That's OK, I am glad to be here ... especially given the alternatives on offer.
Dealing with an addiction is both simple and not. Life seems quite chaotic and unpredictable when we're held tightly in it's grip. Given time we start to see that whilst life itself is unpredictable addiction is so predictable as to be tediously so.
Simple is not the same as easy ... it never was. So why do I equate the two? Some thoughts are hard to dislodge.
Addiction is a bit like having a toddler living in your brain trying to dictate your life on it's terms ... whenever it doesn't get it's own way it throws all it's toys out of the pram and you end up fighting this thing within yourself. Some days all you can hear is the screaming.
It feels like a form of madness at the time and even in those times when you win through ... well even then you can end up feeling depleted and like a fool all at the same time. And yet I've rarely met another addict who really was a fool, except perhaps in regard to managing their own addiction.
I sometimes think about how I could have been so stupid as to have allowed myself to get in so deep. Well ... I think perhaps it's time to let go of that question. I allowed it and I can't undo that. I didn't mean for it to happen and that has to be enough of an answer for now.
Each day is simply a sub-sub-sub task in my process of recovery. I am grateful for today.
I will be heard
There are too many things I do not understand
like why you say this when you actually mean that
and why it is that you act one way just for now
but quite another when all that has changed
is the name of the day or the people present
If you and I can not be real when we are alone
then what is the point in carrying on with this
and what is it that we should call this anyway
does marriage encompass or does it just constrain
am I stopping you from doing what it is you want
When will it be that my needs get a fair hearing
or is it that they just don't bear comparing
with the almighty weight of the burdens you carry
whereas I obviously trip through life as if it were
nothing more serious than a gentle stroll in the park
You mistake my attempts to minimise complexity
as the ravings of a completely niaive simpleton
and yet you have to know that I am anything but
or are you in truth actually trying to imply
that your taste in life companion runs that way
Because if that be the case I have bad news for you
for I will no longer be this acquiescent person
that agrees with the disagreeable to keep the peace
and your filthy temper is not going to quell me
I will be heard long after you've stopped listening
like why you say this when you actually mean that
and why it is that you act one way just for now
but quite another when all that has changed
is the name of the day or the people present
If you and I can not be real when we are alone
then what is the point in carrying on with this
and what is it that we should call this anyway
does marriage encompass or does it just constrain
am I stopping you from doing what it is you want
When will it be that my needs get a fair hearing
or is it that they just don't bear comparing
with the almighty weight of the burdens you carry
whereas I obviously trip through life as if it were
nothing more serious than a gentle stroll in the park
You mistake my attempts to minimise complexity
as the ravings of a completely niaive simpleton
and yet you have to know that I am anything but
or are you in truth actually trying to imply
that your taste in life companion runs that way
Because if that be the case I have bad news for you
for I will no longer be this acquiescent person
that agrees with the disagreeable to keep the peace
and your filthy temper is not going to quell me
I will be heard long after you've stopped listening
My heart
There is a tipping point
between continuing to withhold
and letting go
my head and heart war
over this
this
this
I hesitate to speak of it
to make even that small commitment
towards change
having travelled so far
along this road
why am I not
further on
I counsel patience to myself
speak peaceful thoughts to my heart
trying to still the trepidation
that lies therein
I never seem able to make sense
of the vast disparity
between desire and need
Do you ever dream of running
towards or away from some place
but however much effort you expend
you remain rooted to the spot
or feel caught in the spotlight
of your own scrutiny
knowing you'll always come up short
Is it possible to learn grace
or must we wait for it emerge
from the fires of some further tribulation
can I not learn from the things
already consigned to the past
or the present
where should I look first
I look to my heart
but the vestibule is so cluttered
with this confusion of feelings
I dare not trust it
having been led so far astray
by the vagaries of words said
but never truly meant
And so I look to my head
and there I find a sense
so difficult to deny
impossibly so because
my heart
you see it's my heart
I fear it will betray me still
between continuing to withhold
and letting go
my head and heart war
over this
this
this
I hesitate to speak of it
to make even that small commitment
towards change
having travelled so far
along this road
why am I not
further on
I counsel patience to myself
speak peaceful thoughts to my heart
trying to still the trepidation
that lies therein
I never seem able to make sense
of the vast disparity
between desire and need
Do you ever dream of running
towards or away from some place
but however much effort you expend
you remain rooted to the spot
or feel caught in the spotlight
of your own scrutiny
knowing you'll always come up short
Is it possible to learn grace
or must we wait for it emerge
from the fires of some further tribulation
can I not learn from the things
already consigned to the past
or the present
where should I look first
I look to my heart
but the vestibule is so cluttered
with this confusion of feelings
I dare not trust it
having been led so far astray
by the vagaries of words said
but never truly meant
And so I look to my head
and there I find a sense
so difficult to deny
impossibly so because
my heart
you see it's my heart
I fear it will betray me still
So far from my heart
If I look up quickly enough
or turn my head suddenly
without any warning
perhaps I'll catch you unawares
perhaps then I will see you
or at least some essence of you
just one drop
In crowds I catch sight of you
I forget it's not possible
so my heart pounds
as my mouth dries
I want so much to believe
the evidence of my own eyes
even if they lie
I thought of you today
for no particular reason
wanted to pick up the phone
hear one of your stupid jokes
swap stories, shoot the breeze
just to listen to your voice
feel it's warmth
If I stop missing you one day
if this ache eases somewhat
will it mean you are any further
beyond the great divide
how big is eternity anyway
that it should take you so far
from my heart
or turn my head suddenly
without any warning
perhaps I'll catch you unawares
perhaps then I will see you
or at least some essence of you
just one drop
In crowds I catch sight of you
I forget it's not possible
so my heart pounds
as my mouth dries
I want so much to believe
the evidence of my own eyes
even if they lie
I thought of you today
for no particular reason
wanted to pick up the phone
hear one of your stupid jokes
swap stories, shoot the breeze
just to listen to your voice
feel it's warmth
If I stop missing you one day
if this ache eases somewhat
will it mean you are any further
beyond the great divide
how big is eternity anyway
that it should take you so far
from my heart
The fluttering of wings
I've been thinking again of angels
infinity whispering thoughts in my ear
it started in the breeze of late summer gone
we'd gathered to celebrate 80 years of life
with our much loved father and step-father
grandfather and great-grandfather
a man of many lines of his own account
He'd written verse to mark the special day
referring in it to the imminence of parting
his fear and sadness in that contemplation
were clear in his face and heard in his tremble
it moved my heart deeply to think on it
resolved me more than ever to listen carefully
to make good the time we have in the present
My mother too has started giving things away
small items but significant in meaning
this is not something generally of her nature
being a woman from whom much has been taken
she tallies her gifts and rights carefully
neglecting to nurture her spirit she locks her heart
still, I hope that my love will find it's way home
So it seems that they are both in their own way
preparing now for final departure
how heavy my heart is at the prospect
so go my thoughts down the shadowy track
how will life trundle on when I am an orphan
I can almost hear the fluttering of wings
as ageless angels start to gather 'round
infinity whispering thoughts in my ear
it started in the breeze of late summer gone
we'd gathered to celebrate 80 years of life
with our much loved father and step-father
grandfather and great-grandfather
a man of many lines of his own account
He'd written verse to mark the special day
referring in it to the imminence of parting
his fear and sadness in that contemplation
were clear in his face and heard in his tremble
it moved my heart deeply to think on it
resolved me more than ever to listen carefully
to make good the time we have in the present
My mother too has started giving things away
small items but significant in meaning
this is not something generally of her nature
being a woman from whom much has been taken
she tallies her gifts and rights carefully
neglecting to nurture her spirit she locks her heart
still, I hope that my love will find it's way home
So it seems that they are both in their own way
preparing now for final departure
how heavy my heart is at the prospect
so go my thoughts down the shadowy track
how will life trundle on when I am an orphan
I can almost hear the fluttering of wings
as ageless angels start to gather 'round
It never hurts to have a think about stuff
The last few days have been sooooo busy. The festive season is nearly done and things will soon be back to "normal".
Yesterday was what we have come to know as Second Christmas. When my sister first came to live with us all those years ago now, she wasn't able to have her daughter on that first Christmas Day. Such a difficult time for her. Thus the plan for a second celebration day was hatched. It is now a tradition that has lasted 15 years in our family. Every year we arrange a day when most of people that we love and care about are free to come over. It's a different day each year but we designate that as second Christmas.
It's a day of laughter, present giving, eating (groan), and general merry making. By tradition the presents are small. This year for example I got a candy cane, the guide from a box of chocolates (no chocolate), a packet of sunflower seeds, a slip of paper with a joke on it, a pretty piece of ribbon, a crossword puzzle cut from a newspaper, a box of long cooks matches, a guitar pick, and a bookmark. Perfect.
And games ... we have games galore! Charades, murder, squeak piggie squeak, pass the bomb (my personal fave), football, trivial pursuit ... Oliver beat me at noughts and crosses (tic-tac-toe) for the first time ever. Another milestone.
So on to the new year and although I am not a great fan of resolutions I thought I might change that habit amongst others. After all, it never hurts to have a think about stuff ... or maybe it does.
Allegra continues to be seriously ill. There has been some improvement but it's impossible to know what the future holds. I continue to pray as I know do others.
For Allegra
Dear Santa ...
Every year Oliver writes a list for Santa. This year he wrote William's too. Being five years of age William is just starting to read and write and jolly good he is at it too, but he is not quite up to list writing just yet. Astonishingly the two lists are virtually identical in every regard. I think perhaps Oliver is hedging his bets knowing that whatever William gets , he will be allowed to play with too ... super smart boy that one. On his own list however, Oliver added this postscript ...
"p.s. please give me an apple instead of an orange in my stocking"
Children have many valuable lessons to teach us. I have long been of this opinion and am unlikely to change it any time soon. When did we lose the knack of asking for the things we want or need? Why is it that children can do this so freely whilst we anxiously tie ourselves in knots instead?
Merry Christmas everyone. xx Jos
30 Days of Truth - 29 & 30
Christmas Eve Eve is upon us and so I'm doing a double post in order to clear the decks for the festivities. Want to change the pace tomorrow (if I get time to post at all).
Day 29 - Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Just one thing? Are you kidding? I have a long list ...
OK one thing I hope to change about myself is I want to learn the knack of living in a more "present" way. It is abundantly clear to me that I over think. The knock on effect of this one aspect of my character is just huge. It stops me from enjoying, and it stops me being joyful. I can see that. And I hope I can change it.
Day 30 - A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Ah Jos, you are a funny one. Such a tender soul hidden beneath these layers of awkward outwardness. It's not all bad you know, not by a long chalk. And yes, you have made some mistakes and not all of them are undo-able by any means. I know that troubles you. One of these days you are going to get the hang of exercising grace in regard to yourself. Along that same path comes the art of accepting that which can't be changed however much you might wish it.
In the meantime I will tell you this. You are changing. Bit by bit and perhaps so gradually you mightn't see the signs of it, but look back ... are you the person you were even a year ago? No. That funny feeling you keep getting ... that fluttering in your heart? Well that is hope and it burns bright within you. It is something that is essential to your being and well-being. It is something that I love about you.
The funny thing about all this trying to change yourself is that at it's root you seem to think that you will find it easier to love the person that you are trying to become. But what about the present Jos as she is right now?
You remember that stuff you read about mental filters? How if someone says something that chimes with your internal view of yourself you listen properly, but otherwise you kind of hear it but it is just like noise ... it bounces right off your ears without going in? Well, I want you to listen to the things that people say to you and open your heart to take in their meaning.
You are kind. How many times are you going to hear that before you believe it? It's a good thing to be. You are not perfect and never will be but that doesn't stop you being decent, hardworking, reliable, trustworthy and a good and loyal friend. You are a loving wife, sister, daughter, and aunt. You are OK you know, really you are.
What do you think would happen if you started believing all this stuff? Would the world stop turning? Would your head grow to be the size of a pumpkin?
To value yourself is not a bad thing. It's neither boastful nor selfish. Just be yourself Jos, that's always going to be good enough for me. Be thankful for who you are, and be thankful for the life you have. And relax ... remember to enjoy, will you? I love you. xx
Day 29 - Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Just one thing? Are you kidding? I have a long list ...
OK one thing I hope to change about myself is I want to learn the knack of living in a more "present" way. It is abundantly clear to me that I over think. The knock on effect of this one aspect of my character is just huge. It stops me from enjoying, and it stops me being joyful. I can see that. And I hope I can change it.
Day 30 - A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Ah Jos, you are a funny one. Such a tender soul hidden beneath these layers of awkward outwardness. It's not all bad you know, not by a long chalk. And yes, you have made some mistakes and not all of them are undo-able by any means. I know that troubles you. One of these days you are going to get the hang of exercising grace in regard to yourself. Along that same path comes the art of accepting that which can't be changed however much you might wish it.
In the meantime I will tell you this. You are changing. Bit by bit and perhaps so gradually you mightn't see the signs of it, but look back ... are you the person you were even a year ago? No. That funny feeling you keep getting ... that fluttering in your heart? Well that is hope and it burns bright within you. It is something that is essential to your being and well-being. It is something that I love about you.
The funny thing about all this trying to change yourself is that at it's root you seem to think that you will find it easier to love the person that you are trying to become. But what about the present Jos as she is right now?
You remember that stuff you read about mental filters? How if someone says something that chimes with your internal view of yourself you listen properly, but otherwise you kind of hear it but it is just like noise ... it bounces right off your ears without going in? Well, I want you to listen to the things that people say to you and open your heart to take in their meaning.
You are kind. How many times are you going to hear that before you believe it? It's a good thing to be. You are not perfect and never will be but that doesn't stop you being decent, hardworking, reliable, trustworthy and a good and loyal friend. You are a loving wife, sister, daughter, and aunt. You are OK you know, really you are.
What do you think would happen if you started believing all this stuff? Would the world stop turning? Would your head grow to be the size of a pumpkin?
To value yourself is not a bad thing. It's neither boastful nor selfish. Just be yourself Jos, that's always going to be good enough for me. Be thankful for who you are, and be thankful for the life you have. And relax ... remember to enjoy, will you? I love you. xx
30 Days of Truth - Day 28
What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
I remember the day I found out that I was pregnant. Oh my word what a period of mixed emotions that was. Unplanned but not unwelcome news at the time. Pretty momentous all the same.
As the pregnancy progressed and my body changed it was kind of a wondrous thing to feel a little one moving around inside. To see her on the screen at the ultrasound scans. Perfect little fingers and toes, and such a funny little nose. Tiniest hands making the smallest of waves.
To lose Charlotte so late on in the pregnancy was very hard. It tore me apart to the point where I thought I might never recover. Grief feels so unbearable at the time doesn't it? You think it will never ease but time does it's work in this respect as in so many others.
And now in retrospect although I do still feel some of that sadness at times, I also feel deeply grateful to have experienced that wonder at all.
I remember the day I found out that I was pregnant. Oh my word what a period of mixed emotions that was. Unplanned but not unwelcome news at the time. Pretty momentous all the same.
As the pregnancy progressed and my body changed it was kind of a wondrous thing to feel a little one moving around inside. To see her on the screen at the ultrasound scans. Perfect little fingers and toes, and such a funny little nose. Tiniest hands making the smallest of waves.
To lose Charlotte so late on in the pregnancy was very hard. It tore me apart to the point where I thought I might never recover. Grief feels so unbearable at the time doesn't it? You think it will never ease but time does it's work in this respect as in so many others.
And now in retrospect although I do still feel some of that sadness at times, I also feel deeply grateful to have experienced that wonder at all.
30 Days of Truth - Day 27
What’s the best thing going for you right now?
The best thing going for me right now is that I am in reasonably good health at the moment.
It's far too easy to take this for granted. I know it. So given that, I really don't understand why I find it so difficult to remain in a state of gratitude. I have a lot to be grateful for. I see so many people around me who either have had or are having unbelievably hard times ... healthwise, relationship-wise, family-wise, financially ... just life-wise really.
My problems, such as they are seem pretty insignificant in comparison. And yet it seems that my default mind-set is more inclined towards the negative than the positive. Why, when I can see how lucky I am, why do I persist in focussing on the few things that are not going so well rather than the multitude of things that are fine and dandy?
I allow this negativity to overshadow me. I allow it. Even when things are mostly fine, still in the back of my mind I am anticipating bad stuff happening. I think it's partly because there is an element of never really feeling safe. I am all too aware of the fragility of even the good things in my life. It's not good to live in dread what might never happen ... or even what might. Worrying changes nothing.
The best thing going for me right now is that I am in reasonably good health at the moment.
It's far too easy to take this for granted. I know it. So given that, I really don't understand why I find it so difficult to remain in a state of gratitude. I have a lot to be grateful for. I see so many people around me who either have had or are having unbelievably hard times ... healthwise, relationship-wise, family-wise, financially ... just life-wise really.
My problems, such as they are seem pretty insignificant in comparison. And yet it seems that my default mind-set is more inclined towards the negative than the positive. Why, when I can see how lucky I am, why do I persist in focussing on the few things that are not going so well rather than the multitude of things that are fine and dandy?
I allow this negativity to overshadow me. I allow it. Even when things are mostly fine, still in the back of my mind I am anticipating bad stuff happening. I think it's partly because there is an element of never really feeling safe. I am all too aware of the fragility of even the good things in my life. It's not good to live in dread what might never happen ... or even what might. Worrying changes nothing.
30 Days of Truth - Day 26
Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
I'm not sure I want to write about this at all.
I have thought about giving up and ending my life. I've had the idea knocking around in my head from time to time but only a couple of times have I given it any kind of active consideration to the extent of making a plan and starting to hoard medication.
I can't really pinpoint specific times when I've had these thoughts as they've recurred throughout my adult life although not usually in the context of giving it serious consideration ... more as a way of re-assuring myself that there is always a choice however dreadful things might seem at the time. I guess it sounds strange as a way of providing comfort to myself but sometimes it has helped me to see things more in perspective when things have felt unbearable.
I have been through some times of deep despair. Times when I've felt there was no alternative other than to give up. I have thought about how to do it and worked it out in my mind. In my day to day life I think once I'd made that plan and knew it could work it kind of eased the mental pressure. I stopped thinking about it as often. I know it's always there as an option but I also know that this is an act with far reaching repercussions for the people I love.
I have got people in my life who love me. I love them too. I wonder how I could ever have thought of leaving them ... hurting them. I know there is nothing more selfish than to think of myself in isolation like this. It's not like I could take it back or say "oops, sorry, I made a mistake".
I've known people who've tried to commit suicide, and one who succeeded. I saw at first hand the devastation wrought in the aftermath ... the result of acting upon that self destructive impulse. For years one of my friends has been haunted by the notion that she and their children were not sufficient reason for her partner to want to stay alive.
To despair is natural enough at times. To give up on life even. I can understand how a person gets to that point. I know some people get scared at talk of giving up or even actively seeking a way to end it all. I think a lot of people consider it at some point in their lives without really getting anywhere near acting upon those thoughts.
I'm not sure I want to write about this at all.
I have thought about giving up and ending my life. I've had the idea knocking around in my head from time to time but only a couple of times have I given it any kind of active consideration to the extent of making a plan and starting to hoard medication.
I can't really pinpoint specific times when I've had these thoughts as they've recurred throughout my adult life although not usually in the context of giving it serious consideration ... more as a way of re-assuring myself that there is always a choice however dreadful things might seem at the time. I guess it sounds strange as a way of providing comfort to myself but sometimes it has helped me to see things more in perspective when things have felt unbearable.
I have been through some times of deep despair. Times when I've felt there was no alternative other than to give up. I have thought about how to do it and worked it out in my mind. In my day to day life I think once I'd made that plan and knew it could work it kind of eased the mental pressure. I stopped thinking about it as often. I know it's always there as an option but I also know that this is an act with far reaching repercussions for the people I love.
I have got people in my life who love me. I love them too. I wonder how I could ever have thought of leaving them ... hurting them. I know there is nothing more selfish than to think of myself in isolation like this. It's not like I could take it back or say "oops, sorry, I made a mistake".
I've known people who've tried to commit suicide, and one who succeeded. I saw at first hand the devastation wrought in the aftermath ... the result of acting upon that self destructive impulse. For years one of my friends has been haunted by the notion that she and their children were not sufficient reason for her partner to want to stay alive.
To despair is natural enough at times. To give up on life even. I can understand how a person gets to that point. I know some people get scared at talk of giving up or even actively seeking a way to end it all. I think a lot of people consider it at some point in their lives without really getting anywhere near acting upon those thoughts.
30 Days of Truth - Day 25
The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
I very nearly died before I was even born. My mother started hemorrhaging at around week 30 and was taken into hospital. Because of the seriousness of the situation she stayed there until I was born. Apparently I spent the first couple of months in an incubator because I was born prematurely and had some complications.
When I was three I slipped through the railings of a bridge and nearly fell into a waterfall about 20 feet below. My father caught the collar of my coat and pulled me back. When I was six I fell into the deep end of a swimming pool. I couldn't swim. My brother grabbed me and swam to the shallow end.
In my early teens I was attacked by a man with a knife. I was lucky to get away with quite minor injuries. In my late teens I came off my motorbike and was dragged under it along the road for quite some way. Other than scraping the skin off down to the bone I was largely unhurt. Good leathers. In my twenties I was in a car accident. The car was written off but I walked away with bruises only. A few years ago I had a series of minor strokes. And this time last year the lump I'd found was diagnosed as nothing more serious that a benign tumour.
I remember once being told about my guardian angel. I was sleeping out having got stuck without any money about 50 miles from home at night time. I'd found a haystack and was using it as a bed. When I woke up there was a travelling man resting not far away. He told me that he'd seen a shining man standing over me in the night. How I wish I'd seen this angel ... or any angel for that matter.
I'm not sure that there is a reason that I am alive today. That doesn't mean I don't thank my lucky stars that I am though. I try to remember to be grateful every day.
I very nearly died before I was even born. My mother started hemorrhaging at around week 30 and was taken into hospital. Because of the seriousness of the situation she stayed there until I was born. Apparently I spent the first couple of months in an incubator because I was born prematurely and had some complications.
When I was three I slipped through the railings of a bridge and nearly fell into a waterfall about 20 feet below. My father caught the collar of my coat and pulled me back. When I was six I fell into the deep end of a swimming pool. I couldn't swim. My brother grabbed me and swam to the shallow end.
In my early teens I was attacked by a man with a knife. I was lucky to get away with quite minor injuries. In my late teens I came off my motorbike and was dragged under it along the road for quite some way. Other than scraping the skin off down to the bone I was largely unhurt. Good leathers. In my twenties I was in a car accident. The car was written off but I walked away with bruises only. A few years ago I had a series of minor strokes. And this time last year the lump I'd found was diagnosed as nothing more serious that a benign tumour.
I remember once being told about my guardian angel. I was sleeping out having got stuck without any money about 50 miles from home at night time. I'd found a haystack and was using it as a bed. When I woke up there was a travelling man resting not far away. He told me that he'd seen a shining man standing over me in the night. How I wish I'd seen this angel ... or any angel for that matter.
I'm not sure that there is a reason that I am alive today. That doesn't mean I don't thank my lucky stars that I am though. I try to remember to be grateful every day.
30 Days of Truth - Day 24
Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
I know you thought that I wasn't really listening whilst you tried to inculcate a love of "proper" music in me. And I know you thought I would stay stupidly stubborn for ever. Ha! Just shows what the passing of years can achieve. Drip drip is not only a form of water torture you know. And now look, only 40 something years later and I do actually love much of it ... my top ten are below. So ... I'm all ready for Desert Island Discs should they ever make that call (ha ha).
Sibelius - The Tempest
Elgar - Cello Concerto in E minor
Camille Saint-Saëns - Carnival of the Animals (The Swan)
J S Bach - Goldberg Variations (Glenn Gould)
Chopin - Nocturne in E flat major Op 9 No. 2
Handel - Messiah (Amen)
Dvorak - Moravian Duets
Bach - Brandenburgh Concerto (No. 5 i:Allegro)
Vivaldi - Harp Concerto in D
Tomás Luis de Victoria - Obra: Motete Magnum Mysterium
I could go on Mum ... and on and on. Such a wealth of music out there for us still to enjoy. Not long now until we're off to see Il Travatore!!! See you friday.
Much love, Jocelyn xx
I know you thought that I wasn't really listening whilst you tried to inculcate a love of "proper" music in me. And I know you thought I would stay stupidly stubborn for ever. Ha! Just shows what the passing of years can achieve. Drip drip is not only a form of water torture you know. And now look, only 40 something years later and I do actually love much of it ... my top ten are below. So ... I'm all ready for Desert Island Discs should they ever make that call (ha ha).
Sibelius - The Tempest
Elgar - Cello Concerto in E minor
Camille Saint-Saëns - Carnival of the Animals (The Swan)
J S Bach - Goldberg Variations (Glenn Gould)
Chopin - Nocturne in E flat major Op 9 No. 2
Handel - Messiah (Amen)
Dvorak - Moravian Duets
Bach - Brandenburgh Concerto (No. 5 i:Allegro)
Vivaldi - Harp Concerto in D
Tomás Luis de Victoria - Obra: Motete Magnum Mysterium
I could go on Mum ... and on and on. Such a wealth of music out there for us still to enjoy. Not long now until we're off to see Il Travatore!!! See you friday.
Much love, Jocelyn xx
30 Days of Truth - Day 23
Something you wish you had done in your life.
I wish I had done more than simply trust to nature in order to become a mother.
I'm not sure I can describe exactly the pain being childless causes me. This emptiness. It is a hard but dull ache that mostly exists in the back of my mind these days. As time has passed and along with it any hope of motherhood I have largely come to terms with this. Mourned it. It's just every once in a while that a keening rises up to snatch my breath away.
I balance this against the joy I have in being an auntie, godmother, friend and now even a great auntie ... how did I become so old? Lucky me to have lived so long.
Asked a question of this nature it's tempting to focus solely on something I wish I'd done where the chance to do it has now passed. Hence my initial answer above, which I wrote yesterday. Then I had a think about it and realised that I quite often do this avoidance thing where I focus on what I can't change rather than what I can. So with that in mind I'd like to answer again whilst leaving my initial response to stand.
I wish I had put as much effort into living fully as the person I am rather than focusing so much energy on continually trying to be the person I want(ed) to be.
Some things are almost too simple aren't they? How can peace come from acceptance? How can it possibly be as simple as that? And how stupid does it make me to have taken so long to finally come around to it? I am going to get the hang of this acceptance malarkey ... I may have to learn to accept my own stupidity with a bit more grace first though!
I wish I had done more than simply trust to nature in order to become a mother.
I'm not sure I can describe exactly the pain being childless causes me. This emptiness. It is a hard but dull ache that mostly exists in the back of my mind these days. As time has passed and along with it any hope of motherhood I have largely come to terms with this. Mourned it. It's just every once in a while that a keening rises up to snatch my breath away.
I balance this against the joy I have in being an auntie, godmother, friend and now even a great auntie ... how did I become so old? Lucky me to have lived so long.
Asked a question of this nature it's tempting to focus solely on something I wish I'd done where the chance to do it has now passed. Hence my initial answer above, which I wrote yesterday. Then I had a think about it and realised that I quite often do this avoidance thing where I focus on what I can't change rather than what I can. So with that in mind I'd like to answer again whilst leaving my initial response to stand.
I wish I had put as much effort into living fully as the person I am rather than focusing so much energy on continually trying to be the person I want(ed) to be.
Some things are almost too simple aren't they? How can peace come from acceptance? How can it possibly be as simple as that? And how stupid does it make me to have taken so long to finally come around to it? I am going to get the hang of this acceptance malarkey ... I may have to learn to accept my own stupidity with a bit more grace first though!
30 Days of Truth - Day 22
Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
I wish I'd never done things that hurt other people.
I wish I'd never done things that hurt me either.
I wish I hadn't spent so many years opting out of life generally.
That about covers it.
The thing is that I have spent quite a long time thinking and writing about the vast array of things I've done that I regret. They are many, and the hurt I've caused is my biggest regret of all. In saying that I realise that the regret I have is not focused so much on the actions themselves but the harmful outcomes of those actions.
I wonder if that is wrong? To repent the outcome of sin rather than the sin itself? Absolutely I acknowledge the wrongdoing in my actions. But a part of me sees these mistakes as part of a whole rather than in isolation. Perhaps this is just a "let out clause" though. A way of not shouldering my responsibilities.
Mostly when I think about this its something along the lines of ... "how could I have been so stupid and how could I not have foreseen the consequences of my stupidity?" This learning to forgive yourself bizzo is bloody hard.
It is what it is ... so given that what to do?
But what of the actions themselves?
I guess at the end of the day it should be like this. There are things that I've done that were patently wrong ... ethically, morally ... whatever you want to call it. To feel regret and/or sorrow is one thing, but I think perhaps to feel contrition is better. Contrition drives the desire to change for the better.
I wonder if contrition is really a healthy background for living a life though. Permanently I mean, rather than a phase to go through on the way towards a life that is fuller ... freer. I don't know but it seems kind of ... joyless. At the crux of this I don't feel deserving of joy. Too sinful perhaps. I see that.
How do you shed guilt whilst retaining personal responsibility for actions done and their consequences?
I wish I'd never done things that hurt other people.
I wish I'd never done things that hurt me either.
I wish I hadn't spent so many years opting out of life generally.
That about covers it.
The thing is that I have spent quite a long time thinking and writing about the vast array of things I've done that I regret. They are many, and the hurt I've caused is my biggest regret of all. In saying that I realise that the regret I have is not focused so much on the actions themselves but the harmful outcomes of those actions.
I wonder if that is wrong? To repent the outcome of sin rather than the sin itself? Absolutely I acknowledge the wrongdoing in my actions. But a part of me sees these mistakes as part of a whole rather than in isolation. Perhaps this is just a "let out clause" though. A way of not shouldering my responsibilities.
Mostly when I think about this its something along the lines of ... "how could I have been so stupid and how could I not have foreseen the consequences of my stupidity?" This learning to forgive yourself bizzo is bloody hard.
It is what it is ... so given that what to do?
But what of the actions themselves?
I guess at the end of the day it should be like this. There are things that I've done that were patently wrong ... ethically, morally ... whatever you want to call it. To feel regret and/or sorrow is one thing, but I think perhaps to feel contrition is better. Contrition drives the desire to change for the better.
I wonder if contrition is really a healthy background for living a life though. Permanently I mean, rather than a phase to go through on the way towards a life that is fuller ... freer. I don't know but it seems kind of ... joyless. At the crux of this I don't feel deserving of joy. Too sinful perhaps. I see that.
How do you shed guilt whilst retaining personal responsibility for actions done and their consequences?
30 Days of Truth - Day 21
Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
I always thought I was the queen of feeling guilty until I read this question. Even to me it seems just ludicrous to link these two events in any way.
It kind of reminds me of the other day when I was talking to a friend of mine. She is pregnant. After a string of miscarriages she is haunted by the prospect of another. On the day she came to visit us she'd discovered a dead pigeon in her back garden. She asked if I thought this was a bad omen. I wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of this suggestion. I mean how can anyone in their right mind read any significance into such a random event?
It just goes to show how stupidly rigid my thinking can be some days. Thank goodness for facial expressions and other non-verbal clues. One look at her face was sufficient to quell any humour in my mind. Deep rings under her eyes and anxiety etched clear across her face. No, I quickly saw that my humour and cynicism were inappropriate responses to my friend's concern.
Similarly here, I can see the ridiculous nature of the scenario posed ... but I can also see that underlying this question is one of how we perceive cause and effect. Our emotional state affects that perception and hence our responses to events.
If my best friend were in an accident I would do the same things regardless of any preceding row. I might feel very differently in terms of spurious feelings of guilt but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't let it affect my response to any great degree. I am a practical person so I would try to help in that way as well as offering emotional support to my friend and her family. That's it really. I guess there are some advantages to seeing things in such simple terms.
I always thought I was the queen of feeling guilty until I read this question. Even to me it seems just ludicrous to link these two events in any way.
It kind of reminds me of the other day when I was talking to a friend of mine. She is pregnant. After a string of miscarriages she is haunted by the prospect of another. On the day she came to visit us she'd discovered a dead pigeon in her back garden. She asked if I thought this was a bad omen. I wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of this suggestion. I mean how can anyone in their right mind read any significance into such a random event?
It just goes to show how stupidly rigid my thinking can be some days. Thank goodness for facial expressions and other non-verbal clues. One look at her face was sufficient to quell any humour in my mind. Deep rings under her eyes and anxiety etched clear across her face. No, I quickly saw that my humour and cynicism were inappropriate responses to my friend's concern.
Similarly here, I can see the ridiculous nature of the scenario posed ... but I can also see that underlying this question is one of how we perceive cause and effect. Our emotional state affects that perception and hence our responses to events.
If my best friend were in an accident I would do the same things regardless of any preceding row. I might feel very differently in terms of spurious feelings of guilt but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't let it affect my response to any great degree. I am a practical person so I would try to help in that way as well as offering emotional support to my friend and her family. That's it really. I guess there are some advantages to seeing things in such simple terms.
30 Days of Truth - Day 20
Your views on drugs and alcohol.
If ever there was a subject I wish I could talk over with my younger self it is this one. I suspect however that my younger self would be almost as hard headed when it comes to listening to advice as my older self appears to be!
Bizarrely perhaps considering my life experience I still have a somewhat liberal view on the use of drugs and alcohol. Some people enjoy using mind altering substances as a form of recreation. I don't see anything morally or ethically wrong in that as long as no-one is being harmed.
There are health risks ... both to physical and mental health. In much the same way as people need to be aware of the risks associated with any activity, so they need to be aware of those associated with the use of mind altering substances. Informed choices can then be made from the outset.
Which is all very well in principle.
A lot of people "dabble" in drugs and/or have a drink socially from time to time. It is part of their lifestyles and they give it only passing thought. It neither dominates them nor causes them any real problem. Some see a vast difference between alcohol and drugs ... as if alcohol were harmless in comparison to other substances. The media portrays them in such different lights, but alcohol is a drug.
Drug. Addict. They're just words. Huh.
The problem arises with an escalation from what starts off as occasional casual recreational use to what over time spirals until the person concerned finds themselves caught up in the trap of full scale addiction.
Addiction is a scary word. It conjures up images of down-and-outs ... rake thin junkies or winos sitting on park benches talking into space and drinking their days away. There are some poor souls who end up in this state. I have a lot in common with these men and women.
How do people with lots to live for allow themselves to be sucked in to this ... what increasingly becomes an almost double life ... the addict ... and the outwardly "normal" person. And once trapped why don't we wake up to our situation ... why don't we struggle harder to escape it? Are we as weak and pathetic as it sometimes appears? Perhaps.
I wish I knew the answer but addiction crept up on me and I hardly even noticed it happening ... at least on one level. Denial becomes a way of life ... we are so adept at turning a blind eye when it suits us. A drink in the evening became every evening which became a bottle and then more ... and all the while there was this disquiet going on at the back of my mind and the only way to stop it was to drown it out. I lost most of my friends, my work suffered, my remaining friendships suffered, my marriage increasingly became an unhealthily co-dependant relationship with addiction at it's center.
And still I carried on. Why? Partly because I denied that I was addicted at all. How could I be? I didn't fit the image I had created in my own mind of what an addict looked like. Paradoxically the reason I carried on was because I had in fact become addicted. Funny that.
I fully accept that this was a trap of my own making. There is little comfort in knowing that I fell into it because of my own folly. Even so that's the truth of it. I didn't exercise control because I wasn't drinking for the taste, or to be sociable. I didn't take drugs for the buzz either. What I wanted ... what I craved was oblivion. I wanted escape from my own head and all the thoughts and memories it contains.
Addiction is a form of madness that feeds upon the madness already within us.
Because it is progressive in nature I became ever more deeply entrenched in behaviours that facilitated my addiction. I increasingly detached from the reality and consequences of my own actions. My natural resilience, character and personality were being gradually stripped away to almost nothing, leaving only this never ending need to escape from life.
The thing that I could never have guessed at the outset is how you end up doing unimaginable things in order to feed your addiction ... things that leave you burdened in the longer term with feelings of deep shame and guilt.
Plenty of people enjoy using drugs and alcohol recreationally and will never develop the kinds of problems I have described or experienced. Plenty do though and only some of these are lucky enough to stumble upon the road to recovery. I know how lucky I am to be here.
I talk about all this as if it were in the distant past. That is not true. The reality is that although my road to recovery started some years ago these last few years in particular have been ones where I have taken one step forward only to take them back ... and then some. I am changing that now. One day at a time.
The principle of freedom of choice is generally one I agree with. There is a price to freedom. People are free to make poor decisions ... ones that can result in them leading impoverished lives ... and not just them, but those that depend on them as well. Such a lot of senseless misery hidden beneath this banner of freedom.
If ever there was a subject I wish I could talk over with my younger self it is this one. I suspect however that my younger self would be almost as hard headed when it comes to listening to advice as my older self appears to be!
Bizarrely perhaps considering my life experience I still have a somewhat liberal view on the use of drugs and alcohol. Some people enjoy using mind altering substances as a form of recreation. I don't see anything morally or ethically wrong in that as long as no-one is being harmed.
There are health risks ... both to physical and mental health. In much the same way as people need to be aware of the risks associated with any activity, so they need to be aware of those associated with the use of mind altering substances. Informed choices can then be made from the outset.
Which is all very well in principle.
A lot of people "dabble" in drugs and/or have a drink socially from time to time. It is part of their lifestyles and they give it only passing thought. It neither dominates them nor causes them any real problem. Some see a vast difference between alcohol and drugs ... as if alcohol were harmless in comparison to other substances. The media portrays them in such different lights, but alcohol is a drug.
Drug. Addict. They're just words. Huh.
The problem arises with an escalation from what starts off as occasional casual recreational use to what over time spirals until the person concerned finds themselves caught up in the trap of full scale addiction.
Addiction is a scary word. It conjures up images of down-and-outs ... rake thin junkies or winos sitting on park benches talking into space and drinking their days away. There are some poor souls who end up in this state. I have a lot in common with these men and women.
How do people with lots to live for allow themselves to be sucked in to this ... what increasingly becomes an almost double life ... the addict ... and the outwardly "normal" person. And once trapped why don't we wake up to our situation ... why don't we struggle harder to escape it? Are we as weak and pathetic as it sometimes appears? Perhaps.
I wish I knew the answer but addiction crept up on me and I hardly even noticed it happening ... at least on one level. Denial becomes a way of life ... we are so adept at turning a blind eye when it suits us. A drink in the evening became every evening which became a bottle and then more ... and all the while there was this disquiet going on at the back of my mind and the only way to stop it was to drown it out. I lost most of my friends, my work suffered, my remaining friendships suffered, my marriage increasingly became an unhealthily co-dependant relationship with addiction at it's center.
And still I carried on. Why? Partly because I denied that I was addicted at all. How could I be? I didn't fit the image I had created in my own mind of what an addict looked like. Paradoxically the reason I carried on was because I had in fact become addicted. Funny that.
I fully accept that this was a trap of my own making. There is little comfort in knowing that I fell into it because of my own folly. Even so that's the truth of it. I didn't exercise control because I wasn't drinking for the taste, or to be sociable. I didn't take drugs for the buzz either. What I wanted ... what I craved was oblivion. I wanted escape from my own head and all the thoughts and memories it contains.
Addiction is a form of madness that feeds upon the madness already within us.
Because it is progressive in nature I became ever more deeply entrenched in behaviours that facilitated my addiction. I increasingly detached from the reality and consequences of my own actions. My natural resilience, character and personality were being gradually stripped away to almost nothing, leaving only this never ending need to escape from life.
The thing that I could never have guessed at the outset is how you end up doing unimaginable things in order to feed your addiction ... things that leave you burdened in the longer term with feelings of deep shame and guilt.
Plenty of people enjoy using drugs and alcohol recreationally and will never develop the kinds of problems I have described or experienced. Plenty do though and only some of these are lucky enough to stumble upon the road to recovery. I know how lucky I am to be here.
I talk about all this as if it were in the distant past. That is not true. The reality is that although my road to recovery started some years ago these last few years in particular have been ones where I have taken one step forward only to take them back ... and then some. I am changing that now. One day at a time.
The principle of freedom of choice is generally one I agree with. There is a price to freedom. People are free to make poor decisions ... ones that can result in them leading impoverished lives ... and not just them, but those that depend on them as well. Such a lot of senseless misery hidden beneath this banner of freedom.
30 Days of Truth - Day 19
What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
I think religions offer ready-made constructs that one can choose to subscribe to or not ... they can also act as a starting point for a spiritual journey of unknown duration and destination.
Faith and religion are not synonymous in my eyes. I think the two can and quite often do co-exist quite apart from one another. To some, all matters of this nature are seen as a complete irrelevance. To others it's central to their lives and everything that matters to them.
I think what is important above all else is to act in good faith ... regardless of the source or label of our particular faith.
I have said before that I long to have an enduring faith. I want to believe in something beyond what we see in the here and now. I tried to believe for quite a long time, but trying is not in itself sufficient to cement faith into place. I fasted and prayed ... I read my bible. I lived as if I already had faith ... walked the walk so to speak. But there is an inherent mis-trust in my heart I guess. Perhaps I've tried to believe in the wrong thing. Hard to tell.
In a lot of ways I want to say that I hate religion, but the reality is that I hate what is sometimes done in it's name rather than religion itself.
...
I think political activities are often seen as exercises in futility. It's pretty popular these days to be cynical, insisting that politicians are out solely to line their own pockets or to toe the party line regardless of personal ethics. It may be true for some but on the whole I choose to believe otherwise. I think most people are well intentioned and when faced with impossible choices they try whenever possible to go down the path of least harm.
But I know too from working in various organisations that the prevailing culture can have a massive impact on our thinking. Over time it can whittle away at our core values as we get increasingly weary of standing firm against what can seem like a tidal flow of popular opinion. I can understand how people who initially set out with all good intentions can find themselves on the wrong side of their own moral code.
Politics does interest me although I know little about it. In my very limited experience I've yet to find a viable alternative to one of the popular democratic systems in terms of maintaining personal freedoms, rights and what is loosely termed "the greater good".
I believe these three are imperatives and therefore must be balanced in order to both please and displease everyone to pretty much the same degree. To me, this almost defines democracy ... that it is so apparently imperfect and yet we seem unable to improve on it.
And what of the merits of a benevolent dictatorship? Surely this can only ever work if I am in charge? Ha! ... thoughts for another day methinks.
I think religions offer ready-made constructs that one can choose to subscribe to or not ... they can also act as a starting point for a spiritual journey of unknown duration and destination.
Faith and religion are not synonymous in my eyes. I think the two can and quite often do co-exist quite apart from one another. To some, all matters of this nature are seen as a complete irrelevance. To others it's central to their lives and everything that matters to them.
I think what is important above all else is to act in good faith ... regardless of the source or label of our particular faith.
I have said before that I long to have an enduring faith. I want to believe in something beyond what we see in the here and now. I tried to believe for quite a long time, but trying is not in itself sufficient to cement faith into place. I fasted and prayed ... I read my bible. I lived as if I already had faith ... walked the walk so to speak. But there is an inherent mis-trust in my heart I guess. Perhaps I've tried to believe in the wrong thing. Hard to tell.
In a lot of ways I want to say that I hate religion, but the reality is that I hate what is sometimes done in it's name rather than religion itself.
...
I think political activities are often seen as exercises in futility. It's pretty popular these days to be cynical, insisting that politicians are out solely to line their own pockets or to toe the party line regardless of personal ethics. It may be true for some but on the whole I choose to believe otherwise. I think most people are well intentioned and when faced with impossible choices they try whenever possible to go down the path of least harm.
But I know too from working in various organisations that the prevailing culture can have a massive impact on our thinking. Over time it can whittle away at our core values as we get increasingly weary of standing firm against what can seem like a tidal flow of popular opinion. I can understand how people who initially set out with all good intentions can find themselves on the wrong side of their own moral code.
Politics does interest me although I know little about it. In my very limited experience I've yet to find a viable alternative to one of the popular democratic systems in terms of maintaining personal freedoms, rights and what is loosely termed "the greater good".
I believe these three are imperatives and therefore must be balanced in order to both please and displease everyone to pretty much the same degree. To me, this almost defines democracy ... that it is so apparently imperfect and yet we seem unable to improve on it.
And what of the merits of a benevolent dictatorship? Surely this can only ever work if I am in charge? Ha! ... thoughts for another day methinks.
Missing you
How does a year pass in a day
it seems that there is elasticity
at play
in the way that time passes
I remember you so well
I still think it will be you
when the phone rings
find myself storing jokes
to add to your collection
of tawdry bawdy wit
something more for you
to torture me with
Can you see my smile
I put it on for you
I am missing you
every day.
it seems that there is elasticity
at play
in the way that time passes
I remember you so well
I still think it will be you
when the phone rings
find myself storing jokes
to add to your collection
of tawdry bawdy wit
something more for you
to torture me with
Can you see my smile
I put it on for you
I am missing you
every day.
30 Days of Truth - Day 18
Your views on gay marriage.
Pretty simple really. Love is love. I'm all for love. Why should there be any barrier to people honouring one another in marriage?
Pretty simple really. Love is love. I'm all for love. Why should there be any barrier to people honouring one another in marriage?
30 Days of Truth - Day 17
A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
I'd love to say that I am really widely read but I'm not. Mostly I read pretty mainstream fiction, some poetry, some hobby based stuff and a sprinkling of other types of non-fiction. I haven't read many profound books, but I have read some that have affected me profoundly.
"The Problem of Pain" by CS Lewis really is a profound piece of writing. At the time of my first reading of it I was seeking answers to questions that threatened to undermine my already faltering belief in a loving God. I remember being hugely frustrated at being continually told to "just have faith" by men and women much more experienced in matters of faith and wisdom than I.
"In what?" I wanted to yell. "In a god that allows all this?" I remember that confusion and anger. I carry it with me still, although perhaps not with nearly the same intensity.
I have a deep longing for a faith that is sustainable ... that withstands scrutiny. I want to believe in "more". I accept that what I'm talking about may not be faith at all. It seems to me that at it's core faith is a complete surrender of will ... an acceptance of things unknown and unknowable. This kind of faith is beyond me.
What I loved about this book is that it engages in an intellectually rigorous argument. It starts with the premise that there is a creator god, but from that point on there is a scientific-like exploration and analysis of the issues. The author attempts to reconcile the apparent dichotomy of a divine, omnipotent and loving God who yet permits the pain and suffering we see in the world around us.
In his response he argues that even God must act within the confines of natural law. To do otherwise would be contradictory to God's own nature. Thus intervening to eradicate pain and suffering risks changing the fundamental order of things ... an action that might have far reaching consequences ... certainly beyond our limited capacity to predict.
So it seems that God is inherently unable to reverse that which is caused by nature itself.
It appears then that there's no divine omnipotence, or at least not as I'd come to understand it. Not in the space time continuum in which we currently exist anyway. There is a strong inference running through this argument that once we move into the spiritual realm the laws of nature become an irrelevance. Quite a thought in itself.
I suppose I'd always thought that a Creator God worth his/her/it's salt should by their very nature have had the foresight to design in an ability to intervene to reverse pain, suffering, injustice ... to basically right the wrongs that happen and redress the balance.
If anything persuades me of the level of my own ignorance it is this. That I think myself in any way capable of judging such matters when it is so apparent that I am unable to see anything except this miniscule portion of the overall picture. To balance anything one must first see the whole, have the capacity to comprehend it, and have the wisdom, compassion and capability to act on a truly universal plane for the greater good.
Even so, it made me think about the joy and sorrow that I feel must exist at the heart of this decision to allow suffering and pain in order to protect the natural order of things.
I suppose the thing was that I'd never tried to think anything through in quite this way before. It changed my views on the nature of certainty, faith, and of what divinity itself might actually mean. We have such limited ways of thinking don't you find? I still find that. It frustrates me to catch such fleeting glimpses of a wisdom that lies so very far beyond my grasp.
On a lighter note I have also been re-reading "The Cloudspotters Guide" by Gavin Pretor-Pinney. Some books are just a joy to browse through and read. If you get the chance, have a look. There's a lot more to clouds than I ever imagined. I will never look at skyscapes in quite the same way ever again.
If you have read this far then you and I both deserve a break! Will be back with more "30 Days" posts in a few days. xx Jos
I'd love to say that I am really widely read but I'm not. Mostly I read pretty mainstream fiction, some poetry, some hobby based stuff and a sprinkling of other types of non-fiction. I haven't read many profound books, but I have read some that have affected me profoundly.
"The Problem of Pain" by CS Lewis really is a profound piece of writing. At the time of my first reading of it I was seeking answers to questions that threatened to undermine my already faltering belief in a loving God. I remember being hugely frustrated at being continually told to "just have faith" by men and women much more experienced in matters of faith and wisdom than I.
"In what?" I wanted to yell. "In a god that allows all this?" I remember that confusion and anger. I carry it with me still, although perhaps not with nearly the same intensity.
I have a deep longing for a faith that is sustainable ... that withstands scrutiny. I want to believe in "more". I accept that what I'm talking about may not be faith at all. It seems to me that at it's core faith is a complete surrender of will ... an acceptance of things unknown and unknowable. This kind of faith is beyond me.
What I loved about this book is that it engages in an intellectually rigorous argument. It starts with the premise that there is a creator god, but from that point on there is a scientific-like exploration and analysis of the issues. The author attempts to reconcile the apparent dichotomy of a divine, omnipotent and loving God who yet permits the pain and suffering we see in the world around us.
In his response he argues that even God must act within the confines of natural law. To do otherwise would be contradictory to God's own nature. Thus intervening to eradicate pain and suffering risks changing the fundamental order of things ... an action that might have far reaching consequences ... certainly beyond our limited capacity to predict.
So it seems that God is inherently unable to reverse that which is caused by nature itself.
It appears then that there's no divine omnipotence, or at least not as I'd come to understand it. Not in the space time continuum in which we currently exist anyway. There is a strong inference running through this argument that once we move into the spiritual realm the laws of nature become an irrelevance. Quite a thought in itself.
I suppose I'd always thought that a Creator God worth his/her/it's salt should by their very nature have had the foresight to design in an ability to intervene to reverse pain, suffering, injustice ... to basically right the wrongs that happen and redress the balance.
If anything persuades me of the level of my own ignorance it is this. That I think myself in any way capable of judging such matters when it is so apparent that I am unable to see anything except this miniscule portion of the overall picture. To balance anything one must first see the whole, have the capacity to comprehend it, and have the wisdom, compassion and capability to act on a truly universal plane for the greater good.
Even so, it made me think about the joy and sorrow that I feel must exist at the heart of this decision to allow suffering and pain in order to protect the natural order of things.
I suppose the thing was that I'd never tried to think anything through in quite this way before. It changed my views on the nature of certainty, faith, and of what divinity itself might actually mean. We have such limited ways of thinking don't you find? I still find that. It frustrates me to catch such fleeting glimpses of a wisdom that lies so very far beyond my grasp.
On a lighter note I have also been re-reading "The Cloudspotters Guide" by Gavin Pretor-Pinney. Some books are just a joy to browse through and read. If you get the chance, have a look. There's a lot more to clouds than I ever imagined. I will never look at skyscapes in quite the same way ever again.
If you have read this far then you and I both deserve a break! Will be back with more "30 Days" posts in a few days. xx Jos
30 Days of Truth - Day 16
Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Pain.
I understand the value of lessons learnt. That in pain we learn acceptance, and that acceptance is a sacred art.
I understand that in weakness we find a new kind of strength. That we learn grace and patience. That we can look beyond the immediacy of our pain to find that joy is still possible in any given moment. That we learn to be present in our lives.
I understand that grief is followed by healing. And I understand that without darkness light has little meaning.
I could live without knowing all this. I understand that wisdom comes at a cost. I could live as a fool.
Pain.
I understand the value of lessons learnt. That in pain we learn acceptance, and that acceptance is a sacred art.
I understand that in weakness we find a new kind of strength. That we learn grace and patience. That we can look beyond the immediacy of our pain to find that joy is still possible in any given moment. That we learn to be present in our lives.
I understand that grief is followed by healing. And I understand that without darkness light has little meaning.
I could live without knowing all this. I understand that wisdom comes at a cost. I could live as a fool.
30 Days of Truth - Day 15
Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
I do not like to rely on others. Partly it is a hatred of feeling like a burden, but also there is an element of fear that I will be let down. By keeping my distance from most people I thought I was protecting myself from hurt. I didn't realise the pain it was causing me. I suppressed it along with a lot of other things. I am changing that now. I wouldn't want to live in such a dis-connected way ever again.
That said, I know I can live without even the people I love the most dearly in life. I wouldn't want to, but that is not the same thing as couldn't. The people I love bring joy and meaning into my life. They make my life worth living. In a few days time I will be marking one year since my very dear friend Gabby died. What a hole she has left in my life. I miss her every day and I think I always will. My life is not the same without her in it.
If I were to have to live for the most part without people again, I would always want to have a huge stack of books and my radio if at all possible. I spent many years living alone before I met Trev. I hardly watched TV and didn't trade in my black & white for a colour one until I was in my late twenties. I prefer reading, listening to the radio, and playing or listening to music. I am comfortable with silence. It's not something I have enough of these days and I miss the feeling of calm and "centered-ness" that comes along with it. I will work on ways to balance my need for solitude and silence with the other demands in my life.
Other than the bare necessities for survival I know I could live without pretty much everything I have in my life right now. I wouldn't choose to but I could. In the past I have lived with very little for quite long periods of time. Not in poverty, but with very limited resources. For over a year I lived alone in a small caravan, around 6' x 12' inside. No water, no power, no toilet or shower. This was many years ago now, but I remember what it was like. It's amazing how we adapt.
I lived without being in contact with my sister for over a year. We fell out and neither of us had yet learnt the humility necessary to heal that rift. A valuable lesson. In the end nothing matters to me as much as the people in my life that I love. I could survive without them but I wouldn't describe that as living.
I do not like to rely on others. Partly it is a hatred of feeling like a burden, but also there is an element of fear that I will be let down. By keeping my distance from most people I thought I was protecting myself from hurt. I didn't realise the pain it was causing me. I suppressed it along with a lot of other things. I am changing that now. I wouldn't want to live in such a dis-connected way ever again.
That said, I know I can live without even the people I love the most dearly in life. I wouldn't want to, but that is not the same thing as couldn't. The people I love bring joy and meaning into my life. They make my life worth living. In a few days time I will be marking one year since my very dear friend Gabby died. What a hole she has left in my life. I miss her every day and I think I always will. My life is not the same without her in it.
If I were to have to live for the most part without people again, I would always want to have a huge stack of books and my radio if at all possible. I spent many years living alone before I met Trev. I hardly watched TV and didn't trade in my black & white for a colour one until I was in my late twenties. I prefer reading, listening to the radio, and playing or listening to music. I am comfortable with silence. It's not something I have enough of these days and I miss the feeling of calm and "centered-ness" that comes along with it. I will work on ways to balance my need for solitude and silence with the other demands in my life.
Other than the bare necessities for survival I know I could live without pretty much everything I have in my life right now. I wouldn't choose to but I could. In the past I have lived with very little for quite long periods of time. Not in poverty, but with very limited resources. For over a year I lived alone in a small caravan, around 6' x 12' inside. No water, no power, no toilet or shower. This was many years ago now, but I remember what it was like. It's amazing how we adapt.
I lived without being in contact with my sister for over a year. We fell out and neither of us had yet learnt the humility necessary to heal that rift. A valuable lesson. In the end nothing matters to me as much as the people in my life that I love. I could survive without them but I wouldn't describe that as living.
30 Days of Truth - Day 14
A hero that has let you down. (letter)
When I was a very small girl my hero was my father. I had no idea how badly that would turn out. I guess a lot of little girls idolise their dads.
The problem with heroes is that they are after all only human ... and perhaps the most amazing thing about heroes is that they are as human as the rest of us. It has taken me quite some time to stop expecting perfection from myself. I am glad at least that I learnt early on not to expect it of others.
These days I define heroism quite differently than I've done in the past. I look at people fighting their personal battles with grace and dignity ... I look at those who do much for others at great personal cost ... and I look at some who make the headlines in their field of endeavour for one reason or another. All flawed humans doing exceptional things. Not always perfectly, and not often recognised. To me this is the essence of heroism.
I have written letters to my dad. I've tried quite a few times over the years to mend our relationship. I won't stop trying. Some things are broken beyond repair but I live in hope that this is not entirely true here. I do accept though that I can't change anyone else, only try to better myself.
When I was a very small girl my hero was my father. I had no idea how badly that would turn out. I guess a lot of little girls idolise their dads.
The problem with heroes is that they are after all only human ... and perhaps the most amazing thing about heroes is that they are as human as the rest of us. It has taken me quite some time to stop expecting perfection from myself. I am glad at least that I learnt early on not to expect it of others.
These days I define heroism quite differently than I've done in the past. I look at people fighting their personal battles with grace and dignity ... I look at those who do much for others at great personal cost ... and I look at some who make the headlines in their field of endeavour for one reason or another. All flawed humans doing exceptional things. Not always perfectly, and not often recognised. To me this is the essence of heroism.
I have written letters to my dad. I've tried quite a few times over the years to mend our relationship. I won't stop trying. Some things are broken beyond repair but I live in hope that this is not entirely true here. I do accept though that I can't change anyone else, only try to better myself.
30 Days of Truth - Day 13
A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
I would have to pick Joan Baez for this one. For me she is not only an outstanding artist musically, but I admire her for her courage and determination to stand by her political views through good times and bad. I was privileged to go to her concert in a nearby town earlier this year and even now she has a voice that anyone would envy. She is aging well ... to the point of laughing on stage at forgetting the words to her own songs. It was without a doubt one of the highlights of my year going to see her and taking my mum along to share the experience.
My all time favourite album is 'Ring Them Bells' ... although it runs only a whisker ahead of 'Between The Lines' by Janis Ian. I could wax lyrical for hours about this album too. Again that mix of fabulous instrumentals intertwined with beautiful melodies and evocative words.
But Joan's album wins because not only does it showcase her own talent but has introduced me to the truly wonderful music of other artists as well. Outstanding amongst these is Dar Williams. Oh my, such a voice.
Just listen to this ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uIAVpM-D_A
When I have days where everything just piles in on top of me I retreat to the bathroom if it's at all possible. I run a tub of scalding hot water and put on a loop of 'Ring Them Bells' back to back with 'Between The Lines'. I let the music wash through me. It reminds me of beauty and the power of hope.
Shhh ... don't tell anyone will you? The bathroom is pretty much the only place where I "sing" out loud. Har har har.
So ... onto my letter ...
Dear Joan
You don't need me to tell you that you are awesome. You have a massive fan base, that should tell you more than any words I can ever write. You make my heart sing ... even on the bad days. This is no small thing. I hope your heart sings along with the songs you share with us all.
Warmest hugs from your 10 million-th and one fan. xx Jos
I would have to pick Joan Baez for this one. For me she is not only an outstanding artist musically, but I admire her for her courage and determination to stand by her political views through good times and bad. I was privileged to go to her concert in a nearby town earlier this year and even now she has a voice that anyone would envy. She is aging well ... to the point of laughing on stage at forgetting the words to her own songs. It was without a doubt one of the highlights of my year going to see her and taking my mum along to share the experience.
My all time favourite album is 'Ring Them Bells' ... although it runs only a whisker ahead of 'Between The Lines' by Janis Ian. I could wax lyrical for hours about this album too. Again that mix of fabulous instrumentals intertwined with beautiful melodies and evocative words.
But Joan's album wins because not only does it showcase her own talent but has introduced me to the truly wonderful music of other artists as well. Outstanding amongst these is Dar Williams. Oh my, such a voice.
Just listen to this ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uIAVpM-D_A
When I have days where everything just piles in on top of me I retreat to the bathroom if it's at all possible. I run a tub of scalding hot water and put on a loop of 'Ring Them Bells' back to back with 'Between The Lines'. I let the music wash through me. It reminds me of beauty and the power of hope.
Shhh ... don't tell anyone will you? The bathroom is pretty much the only place where I "sing" out loud. Har har har.
So ... onto my letter ...
Dear Joan
You don't need me to tell you that you are awesome. You have a massive fan base, that should tell you more than any words I can ever write. You make my heart sing ... even on the bad days. This is no small thing. I hope your heart sings along with the songs you share with us all.
Warmest hugs from your 10 million-th and one fan. xx Jos
30 Days of Truth - Day 12
Something you never get compliments on.
I'm not altogether clear how to interpret this one. Pin-pointing a specific area infers that I think there are things where I feel entitled to compliments. Ha! The vagaries of the over-literal mind.
I do feel under-appreciated at times. Not often though. I don't give it much thought. Mostly it's at work. Sometimes though it's at home too. Since Trev lost his job things have been pretty tight financially. This causes me a lot of stress as it does Trev too. Rows erupt out of nothing because of this stress. We are both trying to recognise this and address it. Part of this is paying more attention to each other and complimenting one another more.
Generally speaking Trev doesn't compliment me at all often. So I have taken to telling him when I have a new haircut or a new blouse on ... whatever it is. He wouldn't notice otherwise, but with a not-so-subtle hint from me he will respond with a compliment. Kind of defeats the purpose but then I suspect that he is never going to become more observant. I have got used to it.
I don't generally get compliments about my looks but that's OK, I don't spend much time or effort on looking any particular way except on very special occasions. I don't feel at all comfortable when I am dressed up, to the point of avoiding doing so if at all possible. Particularly if I think it will be necessary to wear a dress or other quite feminine clothes. It makes me feel awkward ... which seems so silly at my age! I still can't walk in heels of more than about an inch in height. I prefer shabby casual. The jeans I am wearing today are about 8 or 9 years old and wearing out. I am loath to replace them despite obvious threadbare patches and worn seams.
I have had 2 hairdressers in the last 18 years and would be still going to the first one if she were still working. It takes me ages to break in a new one ... to stop them banging on about lifting roots, volumising, waves, perms, highlights, low lights, tips, covering grey, .... "all I want is a haircut please ... no extras thanks." If I can get away without having it being blow-dried I do. I don't like my hair being messed around with. I don't like the feeling of someone hovering around me.
I love my current hairdresser Nathan. He gets it. He washes and cuts. I'll let him blow-dry it because he is really quick about it. He knows I hate the blow dry bit. We chat all the way through my visits. I know all about his family and he knows about mine. I've been going to him for about 5 years now. I've stopped hating getting my hair cut which I attribute largely to him.
Hmmm .... quite a lot about my hair in this post. I like that it is going grey. Some of my women friends think it's odd that I am greying naturally. They compliment me on being so brave ... kind of a non-compliment hidden in there somewhere! They are kind about it though which makes me smile. I have some lovely friends.
I'm not altogether clear how to interpret this one. Pin-pointing a specific area infers that I think there are things where I feel entitled to compliments. Ha! The vagaries of the over-literal mind.
I do feel under-appreciated at times. Not often though. I don't give it much thought. Mostly it's at work. Sometimes though it's at home too. Since Trev lost his job things have been pretty tight financially. This causes me a lot of stress as it does Trev too. Rows erupt out of nothing because of this stress. We are both trying to recognise this and address it. Part of this is paying more attention to each other and complimenting one another more.
Generally speaking Trev doesn't compliment me at all often. So I have taken to telling him when I have a new haircut or a new blouse on ... whatever it is. He wouldn't notice otherwise, but with a not-so-subtle hint from me he will respond with a compliment. Kind of defeats the purpose but then I suspect that he is never going to become more observant. I have got used to it.
I don't generally get compliments about my looks but that's OK, I don't spend much time or effort on looking any particular way except on very special occasions. I don't feel at all comfortable when I am dressed up, to the point of avoiding doing so if at all possible. Particularly if I think it will be necessary to wear a dress or other quite feminine clothes. It makes me feel awkward ... which seems so silly at my age! I still can't walk in heels of more than about an inch in height. I prefer shabby casual. The jeans I am wearing today are about 8 or 9 years old and wearing out. I am loath to replace them despite obvious threadbare patches and worn seams.
I have had 2 hairdressers in the last 18 years and would be still going to the first one if she were still working. It takes me ages to break in a new one ... to stop them banging on about lifting roots, volumising, waves, perms, highlights, low lights, tips, covering grey, .... "all I want is a haircut please ... no extras thanks." If I can get away without having it being blow-dried I do. I don't like my hair being messed around with. I don't like the feeling of someone hovering around me.
I love my current hairdresser Nathan. He gets it. He washes and cuts. I'll let him blow-dry it because he is really quick about it. He knows I hate the blow dry bit. We chat all the way through my visits. I know all about his family and he knows about mine. I've been going to him for about 5 years now. I've stopped hating getting my hair cut which I attribute largely to him.
Hmmm .... quite a lot about my hair in this post. I like that it is going grey. Some of my women friends think it's odd that I am greying naturally. They compliment me on being so brave ... kind of a non-compliment hidden in there somewhere! They are kind about it though which makes me smile. I have some lovely friends.
30 Days of Truth - Day 11
Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
A few people have mentioned that I am kind hearted. Some also say I am soft in the head! I tend to agree with the latter more readily than the former.
I do make an effort to be kind wherever possible. I don't like to see people struggling, I would rather stand alongside and help out where I can. I think this is an instinctive response though, so I don't entirely accept that it is something to be complimented on. I am not very comfortable with compliments on the whole.
To me being kind is not about saying nice things although that is part of it. It's about being more aware of the people around me, noticing them and thinking about how they seem generally. It's all too easy to ask people how they're doing and then not listen and look properly when they're answering. People will often say that they're fine verbally but give non-verbal clues indicating otherwise.
Sometimes I'm tempted to offer help when I think I see a need, but where it hasn't been requested. I guess in this instance being kind also entails letting people figure stuff out for themselves even when I see or think that they're going about it all in a very cock-eyed manner. Respecting others involves letting them make their own mistakes but being there to help pick up the pieces if need be. No-one likes a know-it-all.
Sometimes I find it hard to find ways to soften the truth with kindness ... this is especially the case when friends ask for my opinion. I've always thought that part of being a true friend is to treat them lovingly but also like the adults that they are. So I give my honest opinion even when I know it might not be what they are hoping to hear.
I still debate with myself internally whenever I find myself stuck between trying to be kind and telling the truth. I pretty much always opt for the truth except when it comes to people's physical / personal appearance or outfit, even if I don't like it. I figure that my opinion in this area is of no real consequence anyway, so I go with confidence building responses. If I can think of something that doesn't sound too over the top so much the better. Too much emphasis is put on appearance in my view ... why should it matter so? And so that's how I justify it to myself!
A few people have mentioned that I am kind hearted. Some also say I am soft in the head! I tend to agree with the latter more readily than the former.
I do make an effort to be kind wherever possible. I don't like to see people struggling, I would rather stand alongside and help out where I can. I think this is an instinctive response though, so I don't entirely accept that it is something to be complimented on. I am not very comfortable with compliments on the whole.
To me being kind is not about saying nice things although that is part of it. It's about being more aware of the people around me, noticing them and thinking about how they seem generally. It's all too easy to ask people how they're doing and then not listen and look properly when they're answering. People will often say that they're fine verbally but give non-verbal clues indicating otherwise.
Sometimes I'm tempted to offer help when I think I see a need, but where it hasn't been requested. I guess in this instance being kind also entails letting people figure stuff out for themselves even when I see or think that they're going about it all in a very cock-eyed manner. Respecting others involves letting them make their own mistakes but being there to help pick up the pieces if need be. No-one likes a know-it-all.
Sometimes I find it hard to find ways to soften the truth with kindness ... this is especially the case when friends ask for my opinion. I've always thought that part of being a true friend is to treat them lovingly but also like the adults that they are. So I give my honest opinion even when I know it might not be what they are hoping to hear.
I still debate with myself internally whenever I find myself stuck between trying to be kind and telling the truth. I pretty much always opt for the truth except when it comes to people's physical / personal appearance or outfit, even if I don't like it. I figure that my opinion in this area is of no real consequence anyway, so I go with confidence building responses. If I can think of something that doesn't sound too over the top so much the better. Too much emphasis is put on appearance in my view ... why should it matter so? And so that's how I justify it to myself!
30 Days of Truth - Day 10
Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
I know that I am a very lucky woman. In my small but select band of friends there isn't one person I feel the need to let go of. Or at least I can't think of any compelling reason to do so.
One of the things I have learnt over the last year or so is to be a little more circumspect when making too many friends with others in my addiction support network. I have on occasion found myself being asked for support at a level I am just not able to sustain over a lengthy period of time. I hate letting people down and will generally stick by people for a lot longer than I perhaps should.
When anyone needs help my instinct is always to do what I can, even when it depletes me of strength to fight my own battles. I am learning to see the signs of this happening and hold back a bit more. It goes against the grain to do this. I hope that when I am stronger in myself I will be in a position to offer better support to these friends. In the end though I need to recognise that I cannot carry other people's burdens even if my instinct is to try.
So I am learning to be honest with these friends about how things are with me just now and trusting in their understanding. It is sometimes tempting to think that when friends withhold support it is because they don't value friendship to the same degree as us. It is only now that I am learning of this need to focus more on sustaining my own recovery first and foremost, however selfish that makes me feel.
So rather than letting people go as such, I am learning to balance my needs as being of at least equal importance as theirs. I have made some really wonderful friends through my support network and with these friends there is a strong and deep bond of mutual help, support, respect and love. I couldn't manage without them that's for sure. We pick one another up when hard times hit and I have been feeling the benefit of that a lot recently. They light my life.
Like many of us I have people in my life who are not friends. Their behaviour affects me ... sometimes deeply, but on the whole I am so practised at keeping my distance emotionally that I generally let go of them relatively easily. Not always in a very tolerant or forgiving way though! So much to learn ...
I know that I am a very lucky woman. In my small but select band of friends there isn't one person I feel the need to let go of. Or at least I can't think of any compelling reason to do so.
One of the things I have learnt over the last year or so is to be a little more circumspect when making too many friends with others in my addiction support network. I have on occasion found myself being asked for support at a level I am just not able to sustain over a lengthy period of time. I hate letting people down and will generally stick by people for a lot longer than I perhaps should.
When anyone needs help my instinct is always to do what I can, even when it depletes me of strength to fight my own battles. I am learning to see the signs of this happening and hold back a bit more. It goes against the grain to do this. I hope that when I am stronger in myself I will be in a position to offer better support to these friends. In the end though I need to recognise that I cannot carry other people's burdens even if my instinct is to try.
So I am learning to be honest with these friends about how things are with me just now and trusting in their understanding. It is sometimes tempting to think that when friends withhold support it is because they don't value friendship to the same degree as us. It is only now that I am learning of this need to focus more on sustaining my own recovery first and foremost, however selfish that makes me feel.
So rather than letting people go as such, I am learning to balance my needs as being of at least equal importance as theirs. I have made some really wonderful friends through my support network and with these friends there is a strong and deep bond of mutual help, support, respect and love. I couldn't manage without them that's for sure. We pick one another up when hard times hit and I have been feeling the benefit of that a lot recently. They light my life.
Like many of us I have people in my life who are not friends. Their behaviour affects me ... sometimes deeply, but on the whole I am so practised at keeping my distance emotionally that I generally let go of them relatively easily. Not always in a very tolerant or forgiving way though! So much to learn ...
30 Days of Truth - Day 9
Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Alfie.
I first met Alf at a church fellowship group. I was in my teens and he was in his late twenties. Alf was a Peter Pan-like character, full of life and fun. An ex heroin addict he'd recently been released from prison where he had become a regular church-goer.
Not perhaps on first sight a natural prospect for friendship but Alf and I hit it off right from the start. I think sometimes very different people fit together better than those who on the surface at least seem similar. We became friends and remained that way for about 10 years all told. I was bridesmaid at his wedding. There weren't many people I'd wear a frilly dress for but in this case I was happy to oblige. I was thrilled to bear witness to such a positive step in his life.
In my mid twenties I went off to college to further my studies but I still came home quite often on the weekend and spent the shorter holidays staying with Alf and his wife Sarah at their home. Sarah and I are still friends.
We loved to smoke spliff together and would dabble in "party drugs" once in a while. We had a lot of laughs doing this. I never really thought about it being bad or dangerous because I wasn't doing it every day. Alf was though. I liked the effect of switching my brain off and letting go of difficult thoughts and feelings. I was working and studying hard so to my mind this was a way of both joining in and having some fun ... some down time.
Alf was doing other drugs from time to time although I was unaware of this. He was drinking at hazardous levels on a daily basis. I wasn't drinking at all back then but I was aware that the level of his drinking was problematic. Seems funny really that heavy drinking was the norm amongst a lot of my friends even as far back as then. I could see trouble ahead but Alf insisted that this was all just "having a good time" and I needed to "chill".
As my post graduate studies and work took me further from home I saw less and less of Alf and Sarah. We talked on the phone but saw little of one another. Their marriage broke down in this period and they split up. It had lasted less than three years. From there his drinking and drug taking escalated from hazardous to chronic in an incredibly short period of time. He was in self destruct mode. He isolated himself from pretty much everyone and deteriorated rapidly in both mental and physical health.
For some time from then on I mostly heard of Alf rather than from him. He was in trouble with the police, getting into fights, robbing people, other things that I won't go into. Whenever I was back in town I would trawl around the old haunts trying to find him. Sometimes I'd be successful and we'd go for a bite to eat. He was not the man I'd known. We'd drifted apart almost completely by this stage. Our daily lives were just so different. It hurt us both to see one another in a way. I understand that a lot better now then I did back then. I wished I'd known then what I do now.
The last time I heard from him was in a letter he wrote saying that he wished he was dead. This not long before his death. He had moved out of his room in shared accommodation and was mostly living on the streets with some overnight stays in hostels. Sarah talked with his old probation officer who kindly arranged for him to stay at a halfway house but he walked out after only a few days. They did not allow drug taking on the premises. It seemed that he was completey engulfed in his old heroin addiction.
A while later I heard that he was killed in a car accident. Turns out he stumbled onto the dual carriageway and directly into the path of an oncoming car in the early hours of the morning. He was probably just trying to walk back to the homeless shelter. According to reports he'd been seen earlier in the evening and was completely wasted. I hope this means he felt no fear or pain, but more than that I feel so very sorry for the driver of that car. What an awful trauma to have to go through and then learn to live with. Just imagine.
I didn't want to let go of Alfie, I think he just decided to let go of life and all of us along with it. He was only 42 when he died. I still miss him and all the laughs and the jokes we shared. He taught me a lot without even knowing it. On the whole my life seems vastly different now to what it was like back then although obviously some remnants remain. I am glad for that.
Alfie.
I first met Alf at a church fellowship group. I was in my teens and he was in his late twenties. Alf was a Peter Pan-like character, full of life and fun. An ex heroin addict he'd recently been released from prison where he had become a regular church-goer.
Not perhaps on first sight a natural prospect for friendship but Alf and I hit it off right from the start. I think sometimes very different people fit together better than those who on the surface at least seem similar. We became friends and remained that way for about 10 years all told. I was bridesmaid at his wedding. There weren't many people I'd wear a frilly dress for but in this case I was happy to oblige. I was thrilled to bear witness to such a positive step in his life.
In my mid twenties I went off to college to further my studies but I still came home quite often on the weekend and spent the shorter holidays staying with Alf and his wife Sarah at their home. Sarah and I are still friends.
We loved to smoke spliff together and would dabble in "party drugs" once in a while. We had a lot of laughs doing this. I never really thought about it being bad or dangerous because I wasn't doing it every day. Alf was though. I liked the effect of switching my brain off and letting go of difficult thoughts and feelings. I was working and studying hard so to my mind this was a way of both joining in and having some fun ... some down time.
Alf was doing other drugs from time to time although I was unaware of this. He was drinking at hazardous levels on a daily basis. I wasn't drinking at all back then but I was aware that the level of his drinking was problematic. Seems funny really that heavy drinking was the norm amongst a lot of my friends even as far back as then. I could see trouble ahead but Alf insisted that this was all just "having a good time" and I needed to "chill".
As my post graduate studies and work took me further from home I saw less and less of Alf and Sarah. We talked on the phone but saw little of one another. Their marriage broke down in this period and they split up. It had lasted less than three years. From there his drinking and drug taking escalated from hazardous to chronic in an incredibly short period of time. He was in self destruct mode. He isolated himself from pretty much everyone and deteriorated rapidly in both mental and physical health.
For some time from then on I mostly heard of Alf rather than from him. He was in trouble with the police, getting into fights, robbing people, other things that I won't go into. Whenever I was back in town I would trawl around the old haunts trying to find him. Sometimes I'd be successful and we'd go for a bite to eat. He was not the man I'd known. We'd drifted apart almost completely by this stage. Our daily lives were just so different. It hurt us both to see one another in a way. I understand that a lot better now then I did back then. I wished I'd known then what I do now.
The last time I heard from him was in a letter he wrote saying that he wished he was dead. This not long before his death. He had moved out of his room in shared accommodation and was mostly living on the streets with some overnight stays in hostels. Sarah talked with his old probation officer who kindly arranged for him to stay at a halfway house but he walked out after only a few days. They did not allow drug taking on the premises. It seemed that he was completey engulfed in his old heroin addiction.
A while later I heard that he was killed in a car accident. Turns out he stumbled onto the dual carriageway and directly into the path of an oncoming car in the early hours of the morning. He was probably just trying to walk back to the homeless shelter. According to reports he'd been seen earlier in the evening and was completely wasted. I hope this means he felt no fear or pain, but more than that I feel so very sorry for the driver of that car. What an awful trauma to have to go through and then learn to live with. Just imagine.
I didn't want to let go of Alfie, I think he just decided to let go of life and all of us along with it. He was only 42 when he died. I still miss him and all the laughs and the jokes we shared. He taught me a lot without even knowing it. On the whole my life seems vastly different now to what it was like back then although obviously some remnants remain. I am glad for that.
30 Days of Truth - Day 8
Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
It's one of those things ... when someone does something that seriously impacts your life it can be hard to look past that on to other things. With this in mind I've decided to use this exercise to talk about someone in my present rather than my past.
One of the unintended consequences of the way I have lived my life is that until relatively recently I haven't let many people close enough to make my life hell on a personal level, even if they wanted to. Most people have no intent of harming anyone. It's easy to forget that sometimes.
As a young engineer I was bullied a lot in the work-place. Working on the factory floor as a 16 year old was an education in surviving in a sometimes quite hostile male dominated environment. I could say a lot about my negative experiences over the years as I have worked in many such environments since those early days. I have been hit, and hit on, spat at, pushed around, yelled at, had men expose themselves to me, been intimidated and humiliated. All sorts really.
Everywhere there are decent men too. Despite peer pressure these guys do not join in with the shenanigans. Perhaps they have daughters of their own ... perhaps they are steered by their own moral compass, but these men stand apart. They are the ones that help regardless of the jeers. I respect that. I know it's hard to stand apart.
I have been in engineering for over 30 years now and things have improved a lot. Even so only just over a year ago I was hit in the face by a colleague. Sometimes I get scared in amongst these men. Even so I can still honestly say that the person who has treated me the worst was and is a woman that I work with still. Like me she has been through some hard knocks over the years.
She's tough. She consistently gives me a harder time than any bloke I've ever had trouble with. She treats me like shit and uses her position of power to try to coerce me into things I am unwilling to involve myself in. I consistently state my opposition to her suggestions both when we are in the presence of others and when we're on our own. Because of the personal relationship she is in with one of the senior management she is effectively unaccountable which makes my position vulnerable. I have no leverage except my powers of persuasion.
Complaints against her tend to result in the person concerned being sacked, demoted or moved. One of my colleagues has just had this happen to him. Due to continuing unresolved issues between us I have put in formal complaints. Usually this results in her putting in a counter complaint. It is then put to me quite plainly that unless I drop my complaint I'll be subjected to the disciplinary procedure myself. The guys in my company play hard ball, no mistake. Usually there is a "cooling off" of her attitude for a while but eventually it all kicks off and escalates again until I put in a new complaint.
Our financial position is precarious as Trev has been mostly unemployed for 2 years now, making me the breadwinner. I can't afford to lose my job in these increasingly uncertain times. I am actively seeking other employment but the industrial sector I am in is slow and shrinking in size. I don't have the financial resources to re-train. Some days I fantasise about winning the lottery ... that or her falling prey to some spectacular demise. Mostly I just do my job, try to avoid her wherever possible ... and where that isn't possible I deal with her myself in order to buffer my team from her toxicity. I would like to find a better solution.
It's one of those things ... when someone does something that seriously impacts your life it can be hard to look past that on to other things. With this in mind I've decided to use this exercise to talk about someone in my present rather than my past.
One of the unintended consequences of the way I have lived my life is that until relatively recently I haven't let many people close enough to make my life hell on a personal level, even if they wanted to. Most people have no intent of harming anyone. It's easy to forget that sometimes.
As a young engineer I was bullied a lot in the work-place. Working on the factory floor as a 16 year old was an education in surviving in a sometimes quite hostile male dominated environment. I could say a lot about my negative experiences over the years as I have worked in many such environments since those early days. I have been hit, and hit on, spat at, pushed around, yelled at, had men expose themselves to me, been intimidated and humiliated. All sorts really.
Everywhere there are decent men too. Despite peer pressure these guys do not join in with the shenanigans. Perhaps they have daughters of their own ... perhaps they are steered by their own moral compass, but these men stand apart. They are the ones that help regardless of the jeers. I respect that. I know it's hard to stand apart.
I have been in engineering for over 30 years now and things have improved a lot. Even so only just over a year ago I was hit in the face by a colleague. Sometimes I get scared in amongst these men. Even so I can still honestly say that the person who has treated me the worst was and is a woman that I work with still. Like me she has been through some hard knocks over the years.
She's tough. She consistently gives me a harder time than any bloke I've ever had trouble with. She treats me like shit and uses her position of power to try to coerce me into things I am unwilling to involve myself in. I consistently state my opposition to her suggestions both when we are in the presence of others and when we're on our own. Because of the personal relationship she is in with one of the senior management she is effectively unaccountable which makes my position vulnerable. I have no leverage except my powers of persuasion.
Complaints against her tend to result in the person concerned being sacked, demoted or moved. One of my colleagues has just had this happen to him. Due to continuing unresolved issues between us I have put in formal complaints. Usually this results in her putting in a counter complaint. It is then put to me quite plainly that unless I drop my complaint I'll be subjected to the disciplinary procedure myself. The guys in my company play hard ball, no mistake. Usually there is a "cooling off" of her attitude for a while but eventually it all kicks off and escalates again until I put in a new complaint.
Our financial position is precarious as Trev has been mostly unemployed for 2 years now, making me the breadwinner. I can't afford to lose my job in these increasingly uncertain times. I am actively seeking other employment but the industrial sector I am in is slow and shrinking in size. I don't have the financial resources to re-train. Some days I fantasise about winning the lottery ... that or her falling prey to some spectacular demise. Mostly I just do my job, try to avoid her wherever possible ... and where that isn't possible I deal with her myself in order to buffer my team from her toxicity. I would like to find a better solution.
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