wound – Soul Reflection

The Voice of Reason

In a recent discussion with a therapist it was suggested that I was, at times, too reasonable(!). Not only that, but by being too reasonable I was actually hurting myself.

My husband raised his eyebrows when I told him this, clearly he did not agree!

But I have been sitting with it; churning it over in my mind and of course as a result I have had the most unreasonable couple of weeks I could ever have imagined.

Everyone and everything has felt desperately unreasonable.

One days notice from a teacher at school that the cake ingredients rules have changed as I prepare for my child’s birthday. Unreasonable.

Car insurers wanting me to provide information that they know better than me. Unreasonable.

My child wetting the bed twice in one night. Unreasonable.

My babysitter cancelling a two month standing booking less than a week before. Unreasonable.

The resident permit zone being arbitrarily changed so that our property is no longer granted a permit. Un-bloody-reasonable.

And then there’s the bigger stuff…

the school mum throwing her unmet needs in my face
my husband having a ‘moment’ and wondering if I’m really the right one (yes that happened!)
my mother refusing to take any accountability for her behaviour

These are the bigger life hurdles when someone else’s choices can feel so utterly and desperately unreasonable and yet I am very good at making them reasonable. I am very good at looking behind the gauze and finding the reasons, the pain, the whys and the because; and understanding why everyone’s behaviour or choices are the way they are.

A good skill? Compassionate? Able to hold the bigger picture?

I need to segue a moment… when my friend Kim was dying, we talked about the emotional trauma that may have contributed to her illness. Kim was utterly reasonable. She always found a way to walk on a higher plain, she didn’t want to stoop to the level of those who had wounded her so deeply. And that is so honourable and so ‘right’, right? Except that all that justifiable anger and pain stayed inside and perhaps it is what killed her…

So I have sat with my flair of fire, this rage of witnessing the unreasonable and I have held it in conflict with my desire to be so thoughtful and measured and kind.

And then I exploded.

My husband lit the touch paper and I vomited out my rage at all the holding I do for everyone else’s ‘unreasonable’ choices.

And he held me there.

He held me there when I poured out my anger, my grief and my own unreasonable demands.

And he listened, and he heard me. And for the very first time, I felt safe.

It is the hardest thing in the world to hold someone in their pain, just hold them, not fix them, not wrong them, not right them or join them. But just to listen and be with that flow of emotions. And I love him more than ever for being courageous enough to do so.

Because sometimes the emotionally healthy thing to be is utterly unreasonable.

I needed that exorcism as part of my own healing and now I am calm again and able to bear the weight of all of life’s reasons….

The Death Temptation

I am writing this from a basis of my truth, something that is deeply true to my beliefs and understanding of the world and also knowing that this is not a place or a belief for many people. (It maybe wiser for some to stop reading now…)

I believe that sickness nearly always has a deep emotional cause. To be clear this is not karma or punishment, it is not that we have done anything to ‘deserve’ our sickness, but that events or situations that have created trauma in our system are the roots of dis-ease.

Therefore as part of healing it is important to treat not only the easing of physical symptoms but also an awareness of the energetic emotional block that is part of the whole story.

In this vein, I recently stepped into a curious space of feeling myself manifesting dis-ease within myself.

I had stepped into the Death Temptation.

Despite my classic moments of crass insensitivity, I do also empathetically resonate to others’ pain; tears well easily to stories of heartbreak and I feel others’ fears of loss and sadness deep within my system. So it should be no surprise to me that at times I carry the energy of my friends’ and loved-ones’ dis-eases too.

I am nearing mid life and as such, conspiring with the heavy toxicity of our western lifestyle, there is cancer and illness at too many doors right now. One in two the statistics say. I have been holding the fears and news of many and it has been hard not to hear the ‘what if’… knocking at my own door.

But the death temptation is not just about carrying the fear of physical death it is, thematically, a more deep rooted emotional block. It is a reaction to disappointment, heartbreak or loss; a battle against life itself. Death in this form is a, conscious or subconscious, power struggle towards self destruction. The message is that death is perhaps the only thing that could end the pain and exhaustion.

And this is where holistic medicine works so brilliantly for me. In the last few years I have experienced two enormous heart breaks, I have heard myself speak the words out loud ‘my heart is broken’.

Twice.

And for two very different reasons. I remember the ‘heartbreak’ of my teens and twenties, all boy related of course (!), and they were real but oh so very gentle compared to this grief that has consumed my body and soul.

And I thought I had processed them well, and I had, but not enough. I have reasoned my way through these processes and not allowed myself to acknowledge the true depth of pain they have caused within me. So when my body started showing me signs of physical discomfort that resonated with all this fear and reality of dis-ease around me, I took myself to my extraordinary and wonderful homeopath who treats the soul and heart alongside the body.

And she enlightened me to the Death Temptation, this space of choosing death over life because the pain has been to much to bear.

And she showed me another way.

ReBirth.

It is time for me to rise through the pain of loss, to claim my rightful place in the world; to live, to learn, to teach, to love.

I have faced the temptation of death and I choose transformation instead.

As always with endless gratitude to Anne .

Know Thyself

I have just finished the first series of ‘The Sinner’ staring Jessica Biel and I was utterly triggered, re-traumatised and mesmerised by the storyline and intense portrayal by Biel. Her portrait of a young woman, innocent to the manipulations of darkness and yet cognizant of the power of her sexuality, resonated deeply with me and, with it, compassion, shame and sadness for my own young woman.

The story is multi layered with the explorations of characters swinging across the pendulum of shadow life, but to me there was one powerful theme that struck home hard.

Know Thyself.

Side stepping for a moment, there is a phrase I use with my kids frequently when they are struggling with hearing another persons perspective on their own story. I remind them to ‘know your own truth’. In their terms this often relates to incidents where their friends have colourful versions of events perhaps placing blame in unfair quarters, this is the phrase I whisper to them as they struggle with their righteous anger when their characters are being maligned.

It has felt important to me to equip them with this knowledge; that we cannot control another person’s opinion or perception but can only remind ourselves of what is true to us and our own soul and values.

Watching ‘The Sinner’ I saw with perfect clarity how Biel’s character became entangled in a deeply toxic relationship from that simple place of unknowing. She did not know who she was, or even who she wanted to be, she was wide open to another’s interpretation of her and followed blindly down a path of self destruction based on the power of someone else’s opinion.

I remember that vulnerability so clearly. Flashbacks of short lived love affairs and countless first dates. As a most innocent example, I recall being obsessed with one man when I was 17 who finally finally finally asked me out and then I had absolutely nothing to offer him in conversation because I had no value in my own story. It is an excruciating memory and a salutary lesson.

The more painful picture was that I was easily able to capture a partner by primal sexual fever but I could not sustain a relationship because I offered only a veneer of personality entirely created by what I thought they wanted. There was no part of me that believed my true self had anything to offer and worse than that I didn’t even know what my true self was. Was I witty, sassy, smart, ditzy, fierce, gentle, interesting, boring? A bit of everything?

Julia Robert’s in Runaway Bride was a more lighthearted versions of Biel’s trauma; but she too evolved through her partners rather than herself, at the end making eggs numerous different ways to see what was her true favourite, previously being whatever her partner’s was.

At the darkest edge of this all is the possibility of where one might be led. I was taken to places by family, friends and lovers that deeply hurt my soul and spirit, that have left scars and also golden lessons, but that I don’t wish for anyone else to experience. I have believed the truth of myself that has come from other’s mouths and I have thought myself to be the worst type of human, the most unworthy and the most unlovable. It has taken decades to unravel my truth from theirs.

I am writing this from the female perspective but, in this time of gender dysphoria, this is truly an issue that is gender neutral. It is of critical importance for every human to be in deep and loving connection with their own soul.

If we don’t know our own truth then we leave the door wide open for someone to create that ‘truth’ for us and whether that comes from an energy of love or darkness, the end is nearly inevitably despair.

Whether we are gifted it from a healthy childhood or have to spend the rest of our life exploring it, knowing ourselves is the key to our personal treasure box of happiness and a vital piece of our healing.

The Phoenix Decade

It has started. The Phoenix Decade.

Our 40’s are a time typified by the clichéd ‘midlife crisis’: fast cars, affairs, career change, divorce and unexpected death.

Sadly, our society seems to sneer and judge a lot of these changes rather than embrace this as a natural life transition and of course that judgement comes from the fear of ‘us’ and ‘them’, separating the shadow and placing it in someone else’s court. But the truth is, our 40’s are the time for our spiritual renaissance.

Biologically, most of us will be coming to the end of the early years of parenting, the dance of mating and conception taking up so much of our 20’s and 30’s. And with those elements ‘in the bag’, there opens up a space in our lives to observe ourselves in greater depth. Our children and loved ones will be offering mirrors to the darkest parts of our souls through their triggers and button pushing and it is here that we have the greatest opportunity to dig out the roots of our deepest wounds and raise them up into the light.

This is the decade of philosophical thinking, of reflecting back on our own upbringing, how we might do things similarly or differently; exploring the aggrievements that have entrenched reactions and personality traits that may no longer serve us into true maturity and adulthood. It is the golden ticket for change and transformation, to allow your past to die and your renewed and invigorated self to rise from the ashes.

As I look around my peers, I am seeing sickness that is shaking souls to their very cores – cancers, strokes, depression; I am seeing relationships flounder and stumble with what appear to be unbridgeable chasms of disconnect; I am seeing denial where materialistic choices are covering the voids of love and connection. For me these are all symbolic gifts to face the Phoenix.

For myself I know I was close to great sickness. The levels of stress and discordance that I was carrying in relation to my mother were putting a burden upon my system that was unsustainable. Despite my healthy lifestyle, organic nutrition and conscious living, I could still feel the poison of unhappiness in my body. I had early warning signs singing through my nervous system, twinges, aches, pains, exhaustion. That was why it was so necessary for me to face that relationship head on and take the space I needed from it. I could have sat in the dynamic continuing our mutual unspoken discomfort and pain, I could have pretended it didn’t really exist, it wasn’t surely that important, but I didn’t want to die. And that was what that choice felt to me, that my body could no longer carry such a consistently high level of stress, something would eventually crumble.

So I am walking into this decade of the Phoenix with my eyes wide open. I want to face the shadows that will twist and turn out of the ashes; I want to address what needs to be explored. My husband and I will look into the fragile places of our love and relationship and dig out the dirt and attempt to replace it with light. I will stare into the mirror of my children and try my best to listen to their messages of reflection, to own what is mine and to return what is theirs. I don’t imagine that this decade is going to be my easiest, moreover because I am also having to witness my dear friends as they uncover their own phoenixes and the joy and suffering that that can bring. But I am also full of the excitement and possibility that this decade of renewal offers. I am excited to release the shackles of my past and to step fully present (with the best of my intention) into the second half of my life.

I will rise out of the ashes and I will soar.

Scapegoat

I have so much to say and I’m not sure how’s it’s all going to come out but it’s a real mixture of what’s tumbling around my head, heart and soul and also how that relates to the pertinent space the global media is reflecting right now.

I received a real lashing for a recent post (Weinstein et al). It hit me hard and I have taken some time to reflect on it. As much as I work hard to construct my opinions as solely mine and I endeavour to use ‘I’ statements to emphasise that, I have realised that when I post something on someone else’s social media page, it turns my I statements into a ‘you should’. It can feel as if I am telling someone that my opinion belongs in their space. So I have learned from that and will be more cautious about how and where I share my thoughts.

But the essence of that blog still stands for me and I have delved a little deeper into my psyche as to why I hold these beliefs which are perhaps in conflict with a majority. What are my reasons?

What comes up for me is the concept of the Scapegoat. Because not only I have created a scapegoat to escape facing my own issues in the past but I have also been heavily labelled as the scapegoat in my family of origin.

Being the scapegoat within my family dynamic has meant that I am the excuse for them to not be accountable and responsible for their own actions and parts within a story. If I am the person who is ‘wrong’ then that makes those labelling me ‘right’.

And the water is murky because as sure as some of what I’ve been accused of are downright lies, some rumours are carried in truth. Which, more than anything, gives them greater fuel. But what I have come to learn is that my truth and their truth are two very different animals. So whilst my behaviour may be judged by one to be sordid, or untrustworthy, neurotic or perhaps even a little bit crazy. My truth is that I can see the cause and effect on how these events unfolded. I can see the beginning of pain and woundedness that developed into acts of desperate love seeking, or unhealthy out-letting. Once I stopped believing the stories about me from them, I started to see how unhappiness evolves.

And truthfully, it has been the most extraordinary gift, because now I can no longer see ‘bad behaviour’ but only brokenness. I can no longer label someone a predator or an abuser because I see their desperation, their shattered spirits trying to find a way home. I know that being labelled the bad one only spiralled me into deeper despair and I can’t see how it is a solution to anything except the abdication of accountability for all parties.

Because not only have I been the scapegoat but I have also made others my scapegoat. I have been abused and I have abused. When I think of the #metoo campaign, I wonder how many of those speaking out have ever abused others in some form? How many people have used their power to manipulate a person or scenario for their own gain or safety? And why is sexual abuse the pinnacle of this discussion? Some of my experiences that have had no sexual overtones or physical violation have been far more damaging to my spirit than the more overt domination. None of it is right but perhaps neither is it simply wrong.

I cannot stand on a pedestal and say #metoo without also saying that perhaps I have left others uncomfortable, damaged, hurt by my own actions – from a place of unconscious woundedness maybe. But isn’t that the same for most?

Speaking out, speaking up, reclaiming our power is vitally important but with that comes the core piece of accountability and compassion. Where are our own wounds reflected in these others? How can healing really occur without understanding?

I am a scapegoat, I am an abuser, I am a wounded and healing woman.

Emancipation

I wasn’t sure if I would ever write this post, if I would ever talk about it so very openly. It is delicate, because I am not wanting to hurt those involved and yet inevitably, just by broaching the subject, I will. So the choice becomes between knowingly causing pain to another and healing myself.

I have chosen to heal myself.

I have chosen to withdraw contact from my mother, for the time being. It has not been an easy or light decision, but after 40 years of a very fragile and damaging relationship, it is time for a break.

The rain is buffeting ferociously as I type these words and I feel the chill run through me from the safety of my sitting room. The fierce rain reflecting the power of my tears.

I am not going to discuss the minutiae of wounding that has occurred to create this breaking point, that would be unnecessary pain for all involved, but it is important to know that it goes against every aching cell of my body to cut the energetic life line to my mother; that this has been the very last resort of a gazillion resorts. To feel that I have no longer have a mother, and not by death, is the most painful thing I have ever had to experience.

And I write about it because there is huge shame surrounding these dynamics in life. Shame that my mother can’t love me enough; shame that I have failed as a daughter; shame that the most primal and most basic of relationships has been severed; shame that I deprive my children of their grandmother. Shame, shame, shame…

We went to therapy before Christmas, my mother and I, one of those last resorts….. It didn’t bring us closer as I had hoped. It didn’t help to create a mutual understanding. It did help me to see that I cannot keep asking, begging for something that cannot be given. It did help me see how the shame I carry for not making it ‘work’ poisons my own family, the heaviness of rejection and pain leaks out in unhealthy ways.

And with that I saw that I needed to take a break. To give myself a chance to be the best I can be without the burden of being a ‘difficult daughter’. To give my family a chance to start afresh without the binds of ancestral suffering.

I hope that one day I will be able to walk beside my mother again in total acceptance of who she is, but for that to happen I need to be clear and strong and grounded with who I am without her.

I need to emancipate myself.

With grateful thanks to Bethany Webster and her phenomenal work ‘Healing the Mother Wound’.