communication – Soul Reflection

Rageful

My husband and I are at THAT mid-life stage. There is a lot of emotional turmoil in many of our friends’ relationships, the cusp of divorces or other challenging consequences, and we ourselves are certainly far from immune to feeling the spiritual demands of these years.

One of the messages my husband keeps bringing home from his friends is how they feel they have coped with their wives as they have journeyed through the menopause and a recurrent theme is that they were ‘crazy and rageful’.

Now I am sceptical about this description for so many reasons but I also understand that many men just don’t understand the process, cycles and energy of women. We can be an enigma to them and there is dual responsibility here, the women can help men unravel their waves and cycles (though to be fair, many women are also disconnected from our ancient wisdom and wild power via modern societies demands so aren’t always able to explain or fully understand their own patterns) and the men can be willing to try and learn about this wisdom too, rather than simply dismissing it as crazy or unpredictable.

I am not an expert but I certainly know that a few days before my menses there is only a fine veil between my patience and frustration. The rest of the month I can walk through fields of graciousness, but annoy me close to my bleed and it’s just a tiny ditch away from anger. It is not irrational, there is always a valid trigger, it’s just that the comparison of how I communicate and resolve that annoyance is a chasm away from the rest of the time. So I understand that men can receive that as too different to process.

Now brining this to the menopause, I myself have begun to have disrupted cycles. This month I am already ten days over my usual date and that window of short fuse is stretching into a full conservatory. I suddenly realise how this is being received by the masculine, that odd day of ‘crazy’ that can be quickly forgotten or forgiven each month is stretching and elongating. That ditch is being jumped back and forth on too many occasions and when will it end? What if I don’t bleed for months? Will I still feel this premenstrual angst for the entire time?

And it has purpose. Just like it did for every regular cycle I have had for the last thirty something years. Would I describe myself as rageful? Nope. But I’m certainly less gracious right now. I’m less willing to put up with my notion of bullshit, I’m less patient, I need authenticity, directness and clean communication. Is that wrong? Could that be positive? I believe so.

Not knowing when this will end, I can’t just check out, read books, take baths and try all my previous ploys to navigate those one or two days of lore. I have to learn to adapt and adjust but I’m also not going to be labelled as negatively rageful when I know the root of my energy is power. I will learn to channel it and honour it as I step into this new era of my life. I am moving into a time where I have the greatest energetic potential, so it’s no wonder that the transformation is fiery. Call it rageful if you must but I will reclaim that word and alchemise it into gold.

First published on social media on 15th April 2023

It’s beginning to look a lot like Teen-mas

Six months in and I cannot deny the teen era is upon me. I’m actually finding it, mostly, delightful; watching my child expand into the world, explore, grow, stretch and return.

I was the archetypal ‘terrible teen’, lots of deception, no strong parental attachment, peer focused, crashing into adulthood with despair and desperate hope. So there is a part of me that thinks I’ve got this covered, I know what NOT to do. But I don’t want to be naive either, society is influencing powerfully and my children do not have the same impacting factors that I had. So when I saw this book, ‘Untangled’ by Lisa Damour, I thought it would be good for me to have a read.

It is a perfect example of how context is everything. If my values centred around fulfilling the perception of modern society, that high grades, top university and money-pumping careers are the be all and end all of life, then this would be the book to guide my teens through. It shockingly includes a suggestion of bribing your teen to achieve their grades.

There are some solid foundation notes, like having family meals together, knowing who the friends are etc but these are not rocket science and says much about our society when having a family meal together is something to implement for the teens under the assumption that it’s not been happening before. Am I living in an alternate universe?

Are families so disconnected that they need just the basics to bring back some form of connection and communication? Are our children so undervalued that they are being left to flounder through the initiation into adulthood without parental and mentor guidance?

This book made me achingly sad for all of those it is aimed at, parents and teens alike. To be existing together without feeling loved and held and cherished and to be thinking that this is just how life goes, how painful! Damour is doing her best in the context of this world but I wanted something much deeper, richer, more intense. I wanted a call for heart connection, for initiation, for handing down wisdom, learning from the vibrant young, healing ancestral blockages.

The teens is a transition, there is no doubt about that, but in that is the most beautiful opportunity, offered over and over again for years and years. Forget the grades and the careers. Find the passion and the joy and the spirit and the love and the conversation and the connection.

This is the moment your child moves into the blessing of a companion adult. Not too quickly, not until they’re ready. They still need their boundaries and circling, but that is the goal to hold onto. Staying in connection, understanding and love.

First published on social media on 18th December 2022

Contracts

Well it never rains but it pours, especially when the Universe is trying to teach me a lesson. This year has been an intense look at my friendships, where I think things are okay and then have received a stark wake up call to point out things are not quite as I feel.

But today was interesting, a friend who was struggling with me, mentioned something I hadn’t really heard (or listened to?) before. She said I wasn’t vulnerable enough, I was too strong and strident in my opinions, not raw enough.

I feel raw inside. I feel like I absorb the energy of others so much that I am battered and bruised and hauling myself off the floor on a regular basis. But perhaps I don’t show it.

Then this afternoon I remembered a contract I made with myself as a teenager. My mother and I were in a terrible place together, communication was slim and often toxic and I can recall, so clearly, committing to not letting my mother see when I was stung by her words.

‘She will not know how much she hurts me, I will not give her that power over me.’

Has that contract with my mother, over 30 years ago, stayed with me all this time? Has that part that I shut down, the instinctive response of pain expression, been giving people a different impression of me than I feel inside?

I’ve always been fascinated by people whose faces don’t fully portray their emotions, I find myself staring at them, observing the disconnect between word and expression. Am I one of those? I have to confess I’ve often felt the opposite, that I wished my non verbal communication wouldn’t betray me in the way I sense, but maybe that’s all tied up together. And there again maybe I’ve become good at verbalising my feelings after all these years of personal growth and learning, but when I express my sadness with words, I’m still holding back the emotion so no one can read my heart.

Heart to heart….. the very best form of communication and one I pride myself on, but maybe not when I feel the need to protect myself, maybe not when I risk feeling hurt.

I don’t know how easy it is to write a new contract for myself, especially when I haven’t really been aware of its dominance these decades gone. But I guess I’m going to try…..

First published on social media on 9th December 2022

Toxic Silence

‘Send them to Coventry’ is a phrase that found gravitas within military circles but swiftly moved into the echelons of military families and typically boarding school’s bizarre peer on peer punishment regime.

Just reading any old Enid Blyton reflects how, not only accepted, but rated and applauded such exiles were. Someone does something you judge to be wrong and you stop speaking to them for a period of time (days, weeks or even months) and be sure to actively ignore them too if they try to approach you. This is a celebrated technique with certain sections of society and it was only the other day that I connected the dots between my family’s boarding school history and this form of punishment that is so frequently and unkindly used.

I have lost count of the number of times I have been exiled. I now no longer attempt repatriation in the way I used to. I know someday there will be contact and no mention of the exile, or the reasons for it, will take place. This is the acceptance I have had to reach if I want both to stay sane and also to remain at least distantly connected to certain family members.

It is no wonder that I ‘over talk’, I wish to resolve things even if that is uncomfortable and messy and sometimes difficult. I will stay up all night with you or have the conversation on repeat for endless days or, even if it is too hard, I will at least tell you that I need space or time or a break until we broach the issue again. What I won’t do is ignore you and when we finally speak again pretend it’s never happened. I have ghosted people in the past, habits were trained into me, but fundamentally if I love you, I will fight for us.

Silence of this kind is toxic.

When my father died nearly a decade ago, my kids were both under five. They heard me say I was going to view my father’s body and asked to come too. I didn’t know the best thing to do, would this be healthy or traumatic? So I phone the undertaker and asked their advice. They told me that as the children had asked, the should come. They sagely said, children will make up far worse things in their head, if they are told they can’t, than the actual reality.

Such great wisdom that I have carried across many life moments with my kids and is so pertinent here too. The silences I have endured from childhood on, have meant that I have imagined the worst of feelings being thought about me. The reality of a tough confrontation always ends with a deeper understanding of each other, often more compassion and a broader perspective. Toxic silence just leaves a chasm of darkness and imaginings that linger and swirl.

I think the patterns are too hard to break in my family but I’m grateful to recognise their origins and my reactions. I am sensitive to even brief withdrawals of friendship and affection, easily triggered from this conditioning, but awareness is everything and now I can talk myself through it more sanely.

And as with all of these dynamic challenges

I am grateful for the gifts they bring, everything I have suffered through brings me greater soul wisdom and deeper expansion of my understanding and compassion for other’s stories. I am a better human because if it all.

First published on social media on 9th August 2022

The Signs

So here is where I struggle. I struggle with false energy and by that I mean energy that is not authentic.

And then today I had this epiphany that perhaps I’m seeing things I’m not supposed to be seeing.

What if there is a natural layer of ‘etiquette energy’, where people communicate on a polite level with each other that is so intrinsic and accepted in society that we don’t even bother to scratch the surface of whether it’s true? What if the majority of folks live by these unspoken communication rules and that’s why they find it easy to have untroubled dynamics within their circles?

What if my hyper-vigilance, through trauma and/or personality, where I can gauge every nuance of energy within a room, where I can sense the raised eyebrows, the quiet sighs, the subtle step back as if there were neon arrows above their heads; what if I’m not really supposed to register those things?

I suddenly realised that maybe I would find the world so much simpler and easier if I just took the words and gestures as they are intended to be imparted rather than seeing behind each veil and psychological give away. Is that how most people live?

I can feel so drained and sensitive to all of these non verbal clues and I can interpret all the feelings behind them (not always without bias from my own triggers and history, I own that!) that I feel somewhat hesitant to engage in certain interactions and I can withdraw and step back from places that I had hoped to be welcomed. But perhaps I was welcomed, if I hadn’t read the signs.

And I don’t know how not to.

I don’t know how not to see the flashes of annoyance across the cornea, or hear the intake of breath, or the huff of disagreement. I don’t know how not to see their lack of interest in their shifting feet or their determined smile that hangs too long.

But I do wonder if perhaps I didn’t put so much weight to these subtleties that maybe I would be able to engage in a strata of society that has hitherto mystified me.

I wonder.

First published on social media on 24th February 2022

Our Traumatised World

I have just finished reading this marvel, The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk, and I have hit new depths to my understanding of trauma, not just for the world but so importantly for me too. To say I was triggered would be an understatement, so much rose up in me that felt painful and raw and therefore so necessary to face. More work to be done and more avenues to follow with the wisdom of this work by my side.

It is sensitively and compassionately written, with stories that wrench and illustrate in turn, leading through the vast array of trauma our society is generating and holding and offering a myriad of techniques and therapies that can calm, smooth, release and integrate the disregulation and pain that exists.

There is really too much to say and yet so little without simply repeating, verbatim, the written words but there are certain highlights, important themes (see photos) that are lingering in my consciousness.

I think some of my big takeaways are: how it validated so much of where I see our trauma being played out in society, from the simple, defensive, ready to be offended, response that has become the norm of reactions rather than the warning sign that needs attention; to the research that shows how much more impactful a mother’s depression is compared to a father, because biology matters, innate instinct and early years attachment cannot be overruled by a societal yen; it confirms the knowledge that abusers come from trauma, how it is by facing and healing and supporting that we shift our society not by shaming or judging or blaming.

All of these powerful confirmations actually bring me hope rather than despair, that there are healers out there in this field that really ‘get’ it. Over medicating is running its course and I so hope that means we can move onto this real ability to connect, support and understand.

After all, as Bessel says ‘Communicating fully is the opposite of being traumatised.’

First published on social media 11th November 2021

The Empathy Trap

It is always hard to write a blog where I have to reflect on my mistakes as a parent. My ego screams to keep it silent but my spirit yearns to share and offer it of service to others. A mighty battle within.

My parenting philosophy is deeply embedded with the principle of empathy; of feeling and understanding my children’s perspective, in order that I can help guide them and support them through their journey.

I still think this is deeply important.

Yet I have discovered a trap in this idealised path… something that harms rather than helps my children on their journeys. It has been particularly highlighted by one child whom has a fight reaction tendency when misunderstood. When they have lashed out I have nearly always seen and understood the route to that explosion. I have watched and witnessed the unfolding of communication crashes and mix ups. And so I have helped explain that to others. I have spoken their feelings and shown how and why they have reached melt down. I did this to model to them how to verbalise their frustrations and recognise their own triggers.

And it has worked. They can verbalise and can recognise but they can also excuse themselves. ‘I hit because they annoyed me.’

And I have explained that excuses are not ok, there is no justification for violence unless in defence of life and soul. But they keep coming. These excuses. By fully empathising I have taught that there is some implicit permission in their reaction, I have fed this attitude of vindication.

So I have reflected. I have looked out into the world at the excuses and demands for empathy being thrown out constantly in society; I have looked within at the balance of compassion and discipline triggers from my past and I realise that on this honourable path of affinity I have let resilience slide.

Because resilience is a key tool for life. Resilience is the ability to carry on in the face of all adversity, including that of being misunderstood.

When I look out into the world and see the screams and cries of so many begging to be understood, to be re-labelled, re-defined and then crumbling and collapsing when others don’t want to, don’t have to, don’t like to; there I see a dearth of resilience. It is not for us to demand someone’s understanding, it is for us to know that we are still enough without it.

So now I have some work to do. My children are thankfully young and resilient enough to flow with my mistakes; we learn together. I hope the rest of the world can too.

Not Wrong, Just Different.

I have previously touched on the principle of requiring a circle, or village, of relationships to fulfil our needs. The idea that just one or two people should or are able to hold and carry the multifarious requirements of one full lifetime of human experience is perhaps the crux of many problems.

In fact this principle has become such an obsession that the trend on social forums is to instruct each other on how to respond or be responsive towards each other. There are plentiful descriptions about ‘how to be a good friend/partner/parent/boss’ with minute instructions on what makes you good or bad; pass or fail….

But what this neglects to take into account is the principle of difference. That we are all wonderfully, uniquely varied in our gifts, attributes, strengths and, naturally, weaknesses and flaws too.

One of the most resonate compliments that my husband gives to me is that I am someone who always believes there is a way through; that there is a solution somewhere, somehow. And I do. I really believe nothing is insolvable, more deeply on an emotional level but practically too! So whilst I have realised that rescuing and saving people is dis-empowering (okay, I still do it as a sideline occasionally!), I am a great person to come to if you need some ideas, some guidance about what options might be out there to help you on your journey. If you don’t want any of that, if you want just to be heard in total silence and reverence… I might not be the best fit for the job. But here’s the critical point… that doesn’t make me wrong. I am not going to be Jack of all Trades, good at everything, nor do I want to be. I want to be really good at things that come naturally and instinctively to me, I want to hone my skills and work towards mastery.

So what happens if you are in need of someone who is not going to even think of voicing a solution but is killing the strong and silent thang… then find that person.

Create the circle, create your own village.

I have one friend who talks nineteen to the dozen, I can barely get a word in edgewise and she is not someone that I am going to go to when I really need and want to be heard about soulful shit! But I adore her company, she is light and engaging and kind and funny and zingy and all sorts of wondrousness…… she is very much a part of my circle and I need that energy in my life. Imagine if everyone in my life was an intense as me?! Insanity!

Now imagine if I made her wrong for being that way… imagine if I said to her ‘you never really listen to me’, ‘I don’t think you are being sensitive to my needs’, ‘please could you reflect back to me my words so that I really know you have heard me’…. I believe it would crush her and it would certainly crush our friendship. I would be trying to mould her into something that really doesn’t fit in her skin, trying to create her into something else whereas I could simply be accepting and enjoying all the gifts that she does bring.

Of course this doesn’t mean we can’t ask for what we need, consider each other’s perspectives and feelings and reflect on our own behaviour, but within that there is a place to see whether our specific needs of the moment are going to be best met and by whom. I once asked a friend, who had gone silent on my for 6 weeks, that if next time she was pissed with me she could just tell me about it rather than hit the mute button; she told me in no uncertain terms that I shouldn’t ask her to change or be different. Fair enough, she was not going to meet my needs or requirements in that side of our friendship. That was actually a deal breaker for me, I do need my circle to be upfront and clear about when I’ve done something to upset them, and I chose to walk away from that friendship for that reason, but that wasn’t about making either of us wrong, just that we weren’t a good fit.

I used to ask too much of my husband (perhaps still do!) under this principle of ‘he who must be able to support every which side of me’… until I realised what absurdity this truly was. I started to widen my circle and increase the array and variety of friendships, mentors and crazys who help all my facets sparkle as I hope I do in return. And with this choice, there is the potential to free my husband from feeling like somehow he is failing me, or not enough for me, and instead allows his own highlights to shimmer.

I would love to see this embracing of each other’s gifts and strengths replacing the homogenising pressure that social media is trying to instil through shame directed memes and articles. Yes, walk away from those who don’t support you, whilst being careful not to dismiss those that might not be what you need for right now yet their gifts and skills might be everything to you come tomorrow, the new moon or the new decade. We are all personally responsible for seeking out our own joy, friendship and healing rather than insisting it is performed for us by the demands we set on others. Let each of us shine and glorify each other and celebrate the magical complexities of human nature. We are not wrong, we are just different.

The Other Voice

When my son was two, he was hit in the face by a beach swing in Thailand and lifted clean off the ground, resulting in a deep (though thankfully small) cut just underneath his right eye. Armed with steri-strips, cleansing alcohol and Arnica, I cleaned him up, stuck him back together and smothered him with kisses, cuddles and boob!

Even with all my loving care he still looked like he’d been 10 rounds in a MMA ring and of course garnered lots of sympathy and questions from all sorts of strangers.

One Thai man came up super close to me, whilst I was carrying my son, touched his face and said something along the lines of: ‘You are very lucky, he could be blind, you need to be more careful, so close to his eye, he could have lost his eye….’ Well, you can imagine!

This was nearly five years ago and yet what that man said came to me just last week in a moment of clarity and understanding. I replayed it in my head and a monumental epiphany smacked me hard in the solar plexus.

This man was MY other voice.

The tsunami of ‘other’ voices swiftly followed; memories, reactions, hurtful & potent words or comments. All those people I have met so far along my path, whose words felt tough to integrate (good & bad), they were all just different parts of my consciousness being expressed to me loud and clear.

When that Thai man spoke to me that day, my reaction was defence. I smiled, nodded and moved quickly away; I didn’t want to hear and more importantly I didn’t want to consider that possibility that we just so nearly missed. But he was expressing my deepest fears, he was mirroring back to me the heart-stopping moment when I saw my son’s injury and all that could have been. By rejecting it, it has slept silently in the recesses of my mind to pop up now and again in moments of anxiety or fretfulness.

Now I can look at it from another angle; I can embrace it, acknowledge it, own it.

And with that comes the potential to own all of what triggers me in another’s reaction to me. When I rail against, I am only fighting myself. We are all one consciousness; one global thought with layers upon layers of truths and lies and hopes and fears.

With that solar plexus punch I realised how deeply we are all truly connected. ‘We Are One’ is not trite patter but rich and nuanced and soulful.

Imagine if each and every time we felt that defence or trigger in hearing another perspective, we reached inside and owned it as a part of us. We do not have to live it, act it or be it, but simply acknowledge that within us all we hold the infinite potentials, the full spectrum of human nature. Within us is the possibility of our worst and best selves, by embodying that we get to choose which ones to be.

Seeing Love

I advocate passionately & reverently for the resurrection of our ancient wisdom supported by modern research of neurological development; together these detail how responding to the animalistic, biological and psychological needs of our children is integral, not only to their own solid emotional, spiritual & physical health, but also to forming the foundations of a healthy society.

Everything I write about, read about, talk about, dream about draws back to this core. The requirements that reach beyond basic survival and into the depths of humanity and soul.

So I am hyper aware of the impact of my own behaviours and ancestral baggage on myself as a parent, friend, wife and therapist. I could read nuances into each word or facial reaction; I could demand that the circle around my family be restricted to only those conscious of their own wounds; I could attempt to micromanage each and every influence that enters my domain. This would all be very understandable when my heart understands the subtle ramifications that can come from the slightest tremor.

Of course this would also likely lead me to the edge of insanity, trying to control the world and environment to a place of perfection; on top of which it is hardly a good model for my children, friends or clients to ape resilience, compassion, growth, personal choice, understanding and a gazillion other amazing qualities that come from meeting conflicting ideas or ideology.

But what really hit home to me today, was that most of all I would miss seeing love in all its forms. It’s so easy to believe love comes in the form that I feel and express it in, but love is offered in a myriad of weird and wonderful ways that can only be found by opening our heart to the intention with which things are brought.

When I read articles detailing how one is supposed to be a ‘true friend’ or a ‘modern partner’, for example: don’t offer advice unless it is asked for; respect my boundaries at all times; don’t use emotionally sensitive language without first checking for permission; don’t use physical touch without explicit approval….

This…. this drives me batty. If I took all this on board I would be have to be the worst ever friend. Except I’m not. I’m a good friend and I frequently offer advice without first checking because that is one of my primary ways to show and express my love (Acts of Service). I am able, mostly, to perceive if my advice is unwanted and shut up, but not everyone is and yet they might still be offering the very depths of their love. Other people might smother people with hugs and kisses when actually space is wanted; perhaps there are friends that come and tidy up your house leaving you feeling a bit slovenly in their company; others can be effusive with their words, showering you with compliments and affirmations that to you feel hollow and meaningless; another might buy you a gift when all you really wanted was them not to cancel the plans.

It is so so so easy to see the worst in people rather than the best. It is so easy to miss love.

Do I want my world to be a microcosm of connected, joyful and loving intention? Absolutely. Is that going to be reflected if I limit that to just those that follow my form? Boundaries are important, safety is important but should they come at the expensive of seeing the true depths of someone’s heart and intention? Isn’t this world crying out for more love not less?

Today I offered my love to someone and it was utterly rejected, it wasn’t in the right form for them and they reacted to it negatively rather than positively, and I thought of all those people in the world that are getting shouted down, shut down or ignored for showing love in the ‘wrong way’. Awareness, consciousness and growth are beautiful potentials that bloom more powerfully when wrapped in compassion, forgiveness and understanding.

Yesterday, I told off my eldest for yabbering to my youngest when he had so clearly asked for space and quiet, today I see how she was just offering love….

Today I am seeing love.