Tag: stories

Story Time

We can all make up stories about other people: why they declined our invitation, why they smiled strangely last week, why they stopped a conversation just as we approached. 

But how often are they true? Knowing when they are and when they are simply a projection of our own insecurities is a subtle art of intuition, experience and wisdom. Certainly I know if I’m annoyed with someone my stories will, more likely be a manifestation of those feelings I’m trying to deny rather than a clear interpretation of events. However when I am in observation mode, more detached from an engaged emotion, I can often see someone’s true actions as easily as if they had described them to me themselves. Knowing the difference is a skill to master. 

This past week I realised someone had been holding a lot of stories about me and spiralling into a bigger and bigger picture, one story feeding the next. Reflecting on that, I was looking back at various scenarios: family, work, landlords, friends and realising how often this happens. One made up projection beginning the cycle of feeding the next until a whole personality perspective has been created that perhaps is light years from the true spirit of the person. And I am as guilty of this as the next person but perhaps at least aware of it. 

It also crossed my mind and I wondered, are some people more susceptible than others to become the focus of stories? Do some people attract the projections of others? Or are they pretty evenly spread across the population. Do we all do it to each other, at varying levels, all of the time? 

My husband certainly thinks I attract more than my fair share and I’m certainly aware of many that come my way but is that a natural consequence of my personality or something a little broken that needs exploration and perhaps healing or boundaries? 

Is there something in my energy that inspires a person to imagine a negative motivation for my actions? Could it be as simple as a RBF (Resting Bitch Face)? I have a neighbour with one of those and I have to confess I imagine that she is pretty miserable and jealous, none of which I know to be true. Or is it deeper? My tendency to err on the side of blunt, curious and straightforward rather than cautionary or diplomatic, does culturally that make me an easy target. British vagueness fail. Am I too transparent with my non verbal reactions that cause others to see my subtle judgments or feelings that perhaps I’m not even conscious of? 

Or is it absolutely nothing to do with me and entirely a tendency within the projector? Am I just able to recognise them quite easily and so notice how often they fly past my orbit? 

A combination of all perhaps. Certainly I will reflect further on my contribution to these experiences, how much I can limit them or energetically boundary them but also allow each person their own journey, their own stories and know that even if I am the protagonist within their tales, it’s got very little to do with me. I am just a mirror for them to see their own reflection, except when it jars and I recognise myself in the glass too. 

First published on social media on 29th November 2022

The Zahir

Paulo Coehlo is probably the most significant inspiration for the creation of my writing passion. I adore reading across genre but Coehlo’s work has always spoken directly to me, not always comfortably but necessarily, and how he imparts wisdom and induces questioning is what I aspire to in my own work. 

The Zahir is no exception. It has come to me twice, desperate to be read, waiting patiently to rise to the top of my pile. And here I am, with the spiritual space (bar the near constant requests from the kids!) on our first overseas holiday, after two years of guarding and protecting our freedoms, where I can breathe those anxieties away and reflect on what needs shifting within. 

Coehlo’s characters manage to exemplify those portals into my being which I simultaneously yearn and reject. This book looks at how we carry love through our lives, how we let it stagnate, dwindle or die in ourselves and our relationships, and it pulled me up sharp on numerous occasions. 

I have, by choice, let go of so much of what sparked my soul whilst the dive into parenting set me alive in different ways. But I recognise now that the time has come to rejuvenate those embers, remember who I am outside of meals and school runs and hugs and awe. I want my children to see me alive in ALL ways, I want to model that for them but most of all I need to do that for myself. 

In my mid twenties, pre marriage, pre kids, I can remember so clearly those moments of absolute connection to divine love; holding wide the doors of new opportunities & adventures and recognising the signs and messages from God. 

That has never fully left me, but so many layers of extra have piled on top, most wonderful but plenty unnecessary and stifling too. The Zahir has reminded me of everything important and everything unimportant wrapped up in disguise. 

Love is everything. Letting it flow through me unhampered, just as a baby without a lifetime of stories hindering the energy, that is my focus. Not an overnight transformation but a post-it on my forehead for the rest of my days. 

First published on social media on 23rd August 2022

All Black Lives Matter

I am listening. I am paying attention and what I am hearing is that not all black people support the Black Lives Matter movement.

That’s not to say they don’t value the lives of all black people, or POC, but I am hearing that some feel the movement places them in the space of victim. I heard one woman say, ‘I don’t want you to acknowledge you have white privilege, because that implies that I am underprivileged and I’m not. I don’t want to be put in that world of victim.’

I also have a dear friend whose beautiful, kind, thoughtful and honest boys are followed by security around their local supermarket because of the colour of their gorgeous skin and I feel deep sadness and anger about this. I hear both of these voices and many many more.

I am not writing this to argue the point either which way, nor am I in the place to, I wouldn’t assume that position because I am on some levels truly too ignorant.

What I do know is that I’m uncomfortable being told what to do to be a ‘good’ person. I’m uncomfortable being told my views and values can’t/shouldn’t be a certain way, words are wrong, actions are wrong because someone else says so.

I abhor racism and I stand by opportunity for all (I deliberately avoid the word equal because I don’t believe anything is equal and by trying to create something that fundamentally doesn’t exist we are forcing ourselves, as global neighbours, into some sort of rigid, inflexible paradigm that just ends in frustration and anger). I will raise my children to see and stand up for injustice. Yet I struggle with positive discrimination, doesn’t the work discrimination say enough? Energetically, this is not how I feel balance is restored.

My work is all about exploring the wounds in our lives that create ‘inhuman’ behaviour, be that abuse, control, depression, mania, sexism, racism et al. Because the police officer kneeling on George Floyd’s neck was acting in an inhuman way; murder is a divorcing from our soul. I stand with and support all those that want that sort of behaviour to stop, whatever the motivation; I want to help heal our world.

I don’t want to be shamed for doing it in a way that feels soulful to me, whether that’s blacking out my Instagram or not, donating or not. I know I am listening and learning and hearing more than just one narrative on this emotive and painful issue and we all have our own way to learn and path to take.

All black lives matter to me, the ones who support the movement, the ones who don’t. All lives matter to me, especially those that are struggling, unsupported, wounded and hurting. I stand with you all, but please remember to let me follow my own unique path, just like I would like to bear witness to yours without informing you how you should be.

Being told who we must be to be a ‘good’ human is ultimately so disconnecting and alienating, which is the opposite of what is trying to be achieved. This movement doesn’t represent ALL black people, there are multiple expressions, opinions and beliefs about how this world can heal and I want to be open to hearing them all.

I am listening, I am loving, I am here. That is enough.