The light reveals the shadow

Last night I had a dinner date with a fab friend who I trained with. It is a treat for us to spend time together, share a meal together and go over the details of our lives together. And one which we both relish.

Not so much the relish, mess and stickiness glinting up at us from the tables. Nor the large crumbs that were carpeting the floor under the table. Neither were adding to the ambience in any appetite-inducing way. And we’re not exactly OCD about cleanliness levels. Well, I am not.

Anyway, the grubbiness of the place we wanted to eat food from, felt distasteful to us both. I signalled to a waitress and asked if she could please clean the table.

“Yeh, give us a moment,” she grunted with an air of irritation.

“Of course,” I replied, while my friend and I exchanged glances.

There is little more off putting when you are paying to eat out than a member of staff for whom the expectation that they do their job, is too much for them!

The waitress returned and grumped out a request for us to move the condiments from the table. Then she gave it a cursory wipe.

As we were still practically knee deep in the crumbs covering the floor, my friend requested a dustpan and brush from another waitress. Neither of us consider ourselves above cleaning up filth, whether our own or other peoples.

I spent years cleaning other people’s shitty toilets and houses. And I learned the retch-inducing-way to close my mouth when cleaning a shit splattered pan. I had some of my best conversations with Jesus while cleaning other people’s pans. Except for the one where I learned not to talk with my mouth open at such a time. Quite possibly the only lesson I have learned the first time.

Anyway, there was another waitress who had the smile and attitude of one for whom nothing was too much. Not for her to do, or to wear a genuine smile while doing. How refreshing. We all welcome this right!

My friend was really irritated by the one for whom everything was too much, and for whom smiling was not on the menu.

“Hey, this is life to the full. The great, the positive, the welcome and that which is not! It is all here in front of us reflecting the reality/duality of life. There will always be that which blesses us, that which does not and a huge amount in the middle.”

“Yeah, you’re right”, she conceded.

And we agreed to carry on and enjoy our time together in our now hygienically clean enough to eat in, space.

Every situation in life offers the good, the bad and that in the middle. All we can choose is which to focus on. We can acknowledge all. There is no need to deny the difficulties that we dislike. But equally there is no need to only focus on that which seeks to steal our joy from every situation.

The light draws us all but it also reveals the shadow that is connected to us all. There is no such thing as an object that does not have a shadow -this is illuminated by the presence of light. Ditto there is no such human as one who does not have a shadow side. What we see externally depends upon the position from which we are looking, as well as what is going in within that person and us.

The invitation is to believe and accept that this is true for us, and true for others. I do not know what caused the waitress to be grumpy, but I am wise enough to know there will be a reason. And to send up a prayer about that.

We are invited to see and accept that there will always be a rough to accompany our smooth. I say this while sat in my favourite river facing establishment. Last time I was here, despite being the only person in the huge place, a few people came and sat right next to me. Which would have been ok (well, not really) except one of their canines seemed to have the barking equivalent of Tourettes. Which meant every time it stopped barking a bark that could cut glass, I tensed up in anticipation of the next one. There was nothing relaxing about it. And I was irritated. But also, aware that it presented yet another experiential opportunity to focus on managing the only thing I can, my internal response! Sigh.

There is always a rough to accompany the smooth. Will we let the rough steal our smooth, or appreciate our smooth more for the presence of the rough!

Similarly, there will always be a shadow that cannot be separated from the light! We cannot have one without the other. And neither can those around us.

Only this morning I relished being wowed by the wow maker through the trees with all the wildlife within them. My favourite ‘golden hour’ had started too. I was awake and out in the garden before this started thanks to an enduring struggle to stay asleep for as long as my body needs. I even had a visit from the robin who had been absent for a while. I felt my heart expand upon noticing it.

I love these magical mornings; me and my maker ministering to me through the magical.

And then the squirrel started doing the non-magical thing, that it had been doing all summer. It took the huge nut from its mouth and attempted to dig up my flowers to plant it. It/they have ruined my pots throughout the summer. But let’s face it, I have endured, survived and grown through worse than a squirrel making a pest of itself with its nuts!

There will always be something in the picture that we wish was not. But will we succumb to allowing the joy thief to have its way?

Absolutely not!

Last weekend I was on a lunch date with another friend. I had ordered the roast chicken the same as I did when we last met there. The only time I have my favourite roast chicken dinner is when some other bugger is cooking it. When the roast arrived, it did so minus the cauliflower cheese that was advertised to accompany it.

“Hey, where’s my cauliflower cheese?”, I asked directly. (some may say rudely.)

“Oh, sorry,” replied the waitress, “I’ll go and get it”.

Which she duly did. Yay! Interestingly, (at least to me), the last time I ordered the roast chicken, it came minus the stuffing. I requested that and they bought it. Both of which should have come without me having to ask.

The joy thief is always operating in plain sight to take away from us, that which belongs to us and which brings us joy. Yes, cauliflower and stuffing do bring me joy!

So, we must develop our ability to see the joy thief in action. This whether through noise or mess or whatever else ruins an otherwise beautiful picture. Or by stealing cauliflower cheese or on another occasion, coleslaw.

“Hey joy thief, I see you, do one, you are not welcome here”.

This sounds a bit bonkers but if you know what I am talking about, you know!

Nothing is ever perfect in this life; no one, no-thing, no place, no time, no space and certainly not me!

The only one who is perfect is God Almighty.

What a relief that ought to be for us all.

And a reminder to take the rough with the smooth, accept the shadow with the light and not allow the joy-thief to steal what is ours to enjoy!

A perfect prescription

When it comes to struggles, we each have our own personalised set! Ditto, we each have a personalised prescription (ever changing) that helps to ease the symptoms of our particular struggles.

This post was inspired by one known as Huggy Bear, or the King of the hug. (you know who you are). Not one of those weird, awkward, allergic to touch style hugs but a proper human embrace. Top marks. Apparently, there is a certain amount of time required as proven scientifically, to maintain a hug to gain the benefits; calming the nervous system style. As one who didn’t get an ‘able to understand Science’ chip, I can’t remember what that time is. I suggested half an hour while knowing that was probably too long an ask!!

Anyway, post hug, I had shared the utterly delicious day’s menu of my Saturday activities and inactivity’s. Huggy Bear summed up my experience by saying,

“A Doctor would have called that the perfect prescription”.

Yes, I loved that. Which of course begs the question, prescription for what? In my case, my prescription was the antedote for an enormous appetite for everything I love, that regularly results in exhaustion (which I do not love), before repetition. Yawn.

I was aware by Friday night that my system was screaming for nourishment within windows of rest (preferably big ones), so I tried to deliver.

I started my morning as all good mornings start, by hanging out with Jesus in my prayer chair, chewing his ear off while watching and being wow-ed by wildlife. After which, as my dislike of filth had overcome my dislike of housework, I managed to make my way through the hoovering and similar boring tasks. I am very visual so once the visible filth crosses a certain threshold, I become motivated to remove it.

But I am not someone who harbours any desires for my epitaph to read,

“Jo kept a super clean house”.

But equally, I don’t want it to read,

“Jo had the filthiest house in town”.

Because even I have some standards when it comes to the yawn inducing, anything is preferable to, business of housework. (Dear Lord Jesus, please help me earn enough to employ a cleaner – can I get an Amen? As the Pentecostals would say.)

Anyway, back to my Saturday prescription for mostly self-inflicted exhaustion (wiring is also in the mix).

I got on my bike and cycled through the green open spaces between mine and my good friend’s house. I love the feeling of the air on my skin, the sense of wide open spaces and the freedom of flying along on the bike. This is one of my favourite medicines.

Upon arrival at my friends, I was swiftly served a ‘worthy of a Michelin star or two’ standard brunch. Top marks for not making me wait as I am allergic to all waiting. And extra bonus points for food that fed my eyes and my gut biome. Totally top banana central minus the banana as I do not like them (irrespective of potassium content). Brunch consisted of:

  • Toasted sour dough bread (so on point)
  • Roasted cherry tomatoes
  • Avo
  • Lean crispy bacon
  • Kimchi (gift for gut crew)
  • Halloumi; cooked to perfection, read not rubbery.

Wow, wow and wow. I even remembered to chew and savour every mouthful. Always tastier when someone else has cooked it.

Plus, extra points as this friend shares my scoff sharing rules; when I go to someone else’s house for grub, I want to enjoy the rare break from cooking and cleaning to fully embrace the off duty experience! Which let me be clear, I also offer when folk come to mine for dinner; a proper break, not a partial break where you give someone a meal but then expect them to pay for it by doing the washing up! No thank you!

Another friend once told me and I quote,

“It’s enjoyable doing the washing up for your friend!”.

A point I have agreed to disagree on!

Post the banging brunch, we took a meander through the fields accompanied by the woofers. My kind of magic.

Then it was time for me to get on my bike. Enroute home I passed a place where I love to sit and look out over the green. I stopped because I knew that if I went straight home, I may get caught in the, ‘I’ll just do this, that and ten thousand other things’, game which leads to not resting at all.

Instead, I got a coffee, sat under a parasol, put my feet up, and intermittently looked out over the green and read my paper. What luxury. If only I could sit still like this when at home.

On the downside, every time I’m in a public space, I am reminded that I have not bought those ear plugs to drown out noise. On this occasion from an incessant barking/whining dog and a human who sounded as loud as someone speaking over a megaphone. This human did not have or need a megaphone. My sensitivity to noise is not reducing. NB to self, buy the damn ear plugs.

When I had had my fill of green space gazing, paper reading and enduring the noise made by other humans, I got back on my bike.

Upon returning home, the cat was on the sun lounger doing what he does best. Rest! Which seemed like a damn good invitation for me to join him. Which I did. Under my shade providing tree, accompanied by the dressed-in-ginger-fur, ‘love of my life’, and a blanket. Because it was a bit fresh.

Post a delicious Saturday, summer afternoon siesta, I decided to treat myself (and those I was going to meet) to putting myself through the shower.

After which I went for the annual summer barbeque with my long standing/serving/suffering, Christian family.

Here, we ate top notch food; protein packed, cooked to perfection (hats off to the Chef) and a colourful array of fibre filled, attractive to the eyes, good for the body, healthiness. Yum with a capital YU.

Followed by my home made cheesecake which was fan-bloomin-tastic. Yes, even if I do say so myself. Of course, the opinions of others are also required to confirm bias or otherwise. They confirmed that my description was fair.

All of which was accompanied by real conversation. Pleeeaase, spare me any sh*t chat, as I call it. We are all humans who each struggle with something, hence the need for individualised prescriptions. And talking about these is liberating.

We identified how much easier it is to support ourselves with our struggles when we recognise and understand what is causing them. While also accepting that when our minds do not understand why our bodies are struggling, we are still responsible for asking ourselves what we need to support ourselves. And equally important, what we do not.

Someone else shared their reluctance to suggest to someone that their struggles may be due to aging.  How much easier it is to accept this in relation to another’s aging system than to our own!

In middle age and beyond, there is a steep adjustment to be made in terms of system management. The body draws an age evoked line and insists that the mind will no longer be running the show and from here in, mind and body will be led by the body. At least if wishing to live for the long term, should God grant this.

And there you have it; a full day of nourishment for mind, body, spirit and soul. Tick, tick, tick, tick.  A very fulfilling, effective prescription.

What did not get a tick was the moment the bottom fell out of my cake tin and the remaining cheesecake slapped against the kitchen floor in the hosts house!! Comedy style. Whoops!

Whereby we all stood looking at it in stunned silence. I was willing it to get back up, dust itself down, shake off any embarrassment and jump back up to its prior position in the tin. That didn’t happen! We all just exchanged wide eyed, word-less exchanges, while the cheesecake continued to lay there in its splatted display!

As I stood there staring at it and it stared right back, I concluded that it had looked more appealing on the plate than it did on the floor! This despite the host announcing they had just washed the floor (always a fate tempter!). I did briefly consider the three second/more like three minute rule. But I overruled it on this occasion!

Once we had all closed our jaws and accepted the cheesecake really wasn’t going to clean itself up, the host had the genius idea that a fish slice could help. It did. I scraped the worst of the cheesecake off the floor (such a waste) and in to the food bin. Then I wiped up the wet bits with kitchen cloth and with the hosts assurance, left the rest for the hoover. (where’s a dog when you need one?).

My suggested learning for my friend was, beyond middle age when energy conservation becomes vital, only ever do the housework after offering hospitality. Who has the energy or inclination to do it twice? She saw the funny side. I think, or maybe I was projecting!

For me, a key part of a perfect prescription is time spent with people you love (who you hope love you!) and with whom you can relax enough to forget fake airs or graces and even on occasion, decorate their freshly washed floors. And with whom there is no pretence of being a polished, problem-free people. Instead, we can acknowledge that we all have access to a, ‘no job too small/big/embarrassing’, for God to help us with. Real is refreshing, relaxing and performance free. Golder than gold.

Except perhaps for the floor splattering cheesecake.

But overall, this was a messy and hilarious end to a perfect prescription of a Saturday!

Help is at hand

Us humans can be a bit shit when it comes to asking for help. I do not know if this is driven by pride, ego, fear or a crap cocktail of all. Or the cultural conditioning that leaves us b/s-ing ourselves in to believing we should be able to manage everything without help.

Either way, what I do know is that there is no such thing as a human who does not need help sometimes.

Recently I have noticed a growing number of signs in customer services areas. The signs read something like this,

“Our workers will not tolerate abuse. Please treat staff with respect or you will be asked to leave”.

I’ve even seen these signs on the roadworks on motorways. Yes, the disruption of roadworks are irritating, but no, they do not justify abusing those doing their jobs.

The need for such signs is a sad reflection of the times we find ourselves in. What filters down via the tone deaf-ness of too many politicians is a vast disconnect from the everyday person. The social systems in place for us, are so far stretched that they cannot possibly meet the demands placed upon them. This inevitably causes genuine stress for all. And stress in an already over-busy, over-noisy culture, leads to a lack of tolerance and an increase in irritation. We all get terse and tetchy at times especially when the temperatures are beyond our ability to manage well. But being abusive to our fellow human is not acceptable.

We all have legitimate needs and sometimes we cannot access the services we need to meet these needs. But, we do have help at hand. Something I still forget amidst the relentless to-do-ing of the day.

Last weekend I went to a good friends fiftieth party. It was outside in a green space, under a blue sky and a shining sun. Tick, tick, tick. My friend was surrounded by the people who love her and who showed up to celebrate her gift of life, and our gift of friendship with her. More ticks. And I was accompanied by a good friend, who I laugh lots with. Big tick. He is also a serial straight talker which is one of my favourite human traits. I struggle with wonky shooters who say one thing before doing the opposite.

Anyway, following a food fest worthy of royalty – not a curled up sandwich in sight, the next part of the party unfolded. This was called Prosecco rounders. As a recovered alcoholic, prosecco is not my bag. Usually anything active especially if competitive, would be my bag. I’m not sure if it was my large floaty, not-conducive-to-running-in, dress, my Friday night fatigue, or my discomfort in crowds of people I don’t know, but I came over, all, ‘I want to hide’.

My friend and fellow recovered alcoholic shot straight in there thrilled at the chance to unleash his competitive beast. Plus, he had suitable shorts and footwear on. And he went on to get a rounder. Yay!

Meanwhile, I took a chair to spectate from the sidelines and try to squash my feeling that I was being a bit of a shit friend. I tried to utilise my invisibility coat of protection which I spent many years developing. And I succeeded for a while.

However, my friend’s husband then appeared by me and did a double take when he saw me hiding on the sidelines. He knows I’m not typically a sidelines person, but a get-out-there and live life the fuller than full way person.

He questioned what I was doing there and why I wasn’t playing. I heard a string of lame arse excuses come out of my mouth. And he called me out on every one of them! Before saying something that struck straight to my spirit. He knows I’m a Christian – I’ve prayed for their son before (prayers answered) and I prayed for his work situation (prayers answered). He said something along the lines of,

“Your man up there would have helped you with the rounders. Why didn’t you ask him? You’re better than this Jo.”

Thank God for the straight shooters!

Instantly, I replied,

“Good answer, you’re totally right.”

And then I sat there a bit stunned.

Often it takes my so called non-believer friends to remind me/call me out when I am not practicing what I preach or trusting the God that I say I believe in! I’ve lost count of the times friends have asked me whether I prayed for something as they have immediately credited God for answering and meeting their needs! 

Similarly, during the worst of the worst of these past few years, my non-Christian friends have regularly reminded me that God had bought me through every previous awful time. I do love praying and it is a non-negotiable part of my day. But it still amazes me how quickly non-Christians see and remind me of the helping hand of God! Sometimes more quickly and clearly than this Christian see’s!

Thank you God for my non-Christian, more-faith-in-you-than-me, friends!

Every morning my favourite part of the day is hanging out with God in nature. I enjoy quality time with him and allowing him the space to speak with me. He fills my heart and spirit with deep gratitude, contentment and wisdom so wise, that it is off the human wise-o-metre. However, sometimes I then forget all about him until the same time the next day.

My friend’s comments reminded me that God is there on hand waiting all day and all night, for me to ask for his help. Not only with the big crisis stuff but the little moments throughout the day too. Whether to thank him when I recognise his helping hand, or to ask for his helping hand when I am struggling. I was reminded that God is interested in every part of my day, large, small or medium sized. If it matters to me, it matters to Him.

Sometimes I remember to ask for his help when I am about to tackle a task that requires me to put my big-girl-pants on and push through my desire to avoid it. It may be removing the squirrel that died in my water butt or the rodent remains from the lounge floor or one of those big skinny-but-scary spiders from the bathroom. I don’t want anything in the shower with me but especially not something with eight legs. Ugh.

Back to the rounders, it wasn’t the end of the world when I didn’t join in with the game. And there are times when we need to say no without guilt or condemnation. But I’m honest enough to know this wasn’t really one of them. Yes, I felt hesitant, yes I was tired, and yes I wanted to hide, but this game was my friends wish for her birthday. And that was what I felt appropriately shit about.

On reflection, I wish I had asked God to help me push through my reticence to join the game. It didn’t even occur to me in the moment, but it shot straight to the heart of my truth detector the second my friend’s husband said it. I’m not going to batter myself about this – I can allow for my own humanity. But what I am going to do is try to remember to ask God to help me as I go through the day, not only at the start.

God is not a part time God, or one who goes off duty, or is too overstretched to have time for us. He loves it when we recognise his presence and desire to help. More so when we acknowledge our need and want for him and ask him to help. Whether with bearing this heat or choosing an outfit for a night out, tackling the tax assessment (groan) or anything and everything in between. He is not only a God for whom there is no job too small, but one for whom there is no job he will not help us with. Wowsers! What an offer.

While he never pesters or pressures us, he always waits patiently for us to ask for his help.

My most often uttered prayer is,

“Help”.

And when I am not so stressed or desperate that I forget, I even add,

“Please”.

These prayers sometimes take time in the natural for the answer to be seen, especially if it is not answered how I want or expect. But I know in my knower that my God hears and responds to every prayer. Mine, yours and ours.

Tribute to a trio of dads

Last weekend I surprised myself by going to Hitchin. On a Saturday. A destination I usually avoid of a weekend due to my dislike of noise making/space taking crowds. And stress inducing parking scenario’s; too many cars, not enough spaces all combined with having to push through my aversion to apps/parking machines. That’s a hattrick of hated situations I prefer to spare myself from of a Saturday.

However, as the monsoons/hailstones were taking a break, I chose to risk life and limb by cycling to Hitchin. Something I find way safer and more enjoyable than driving and trying to park the car.

Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised that it was warm and dry enough to sit outside in the square. A talented singer was playing by the nearby pub; the sun was popping out periodically and there weren’t too many people. A winning hattrick.

My friend and fellow therapist and I were able to enjoy a good scoff, al fresco. We also caught up on all things life, death and relational.

Our discussions led to the recent death of my dad which led to a deeper dad discussion. We discovered that we shared some similar experiences and feelings about our respective dads.

Afterwards I realised that I’ve had many parent-based conversations lately. These have highlighted that no matter how old we are, we are all wired with the longing for the love of a father. To make us feel seen, held, safe, comforted, helped, protected and guided. None more so than when the sh*t hits the fan; whether we are behaving like a bit of a sh*t ourselves, someone else is, or another sh*t bomb has landed from life.

We are all dealt different cards when it comes to our biological dads. Some dads are absent whether physically (or dead) or emotionally, others are distracted/pre-occupied/neglectful, controlling or plain abusive. And some are present as never ending sources of love, support, money … most are somewhere in between.

Whatever hand we were dealt on the dad card front, the stresses and strains of middle age can evoke a childlike longing for a ‘parental’ figure. We may want a parent to make us feel like we don’t have to hold it all in, or all together, or all on our own. Especially in times of transition, change, uncertainty, loss, grief etc when we may regress to feeling small, frightened and unsettled. And we may long for a proper grown up to take the weight off our shoulders, put their big, strong arms around us and lead us forward step by step. (Do any of us feel qualified to claim official grown up status?)

We may long for someone safe and solid to hold us steady while we work out and walk through, challenging and changing times. We may long for this to be a parental presence who offers a strength that give us the comfort, consistency and compassion that we crave when we feel vulnerable. We may want to surrender to a childlike status, free from the weight of grown up responsibilities, decisions and adult to-do-ing. And we may long to feel safe to trust in the helping hand of one who see’s and knows more than we do and always wants the best for us.

And that’s when I realised that while no human parent can meet all these hopes, I’ve hit the jackpot with God as the dad who can! God likes to show me lessons in three’s as it often takes three times of him showing me something similar, to secure my attention! But as three is also a holy number, he often blesses me in threes too. When it comes to the dad department, I got three of them!

The biological dad was a great provider while growing up. He also imparted his unstoppable tenacity for hard graft and pursuing his passions. And his enormous capacity for laughing at himself. I am grateful for each of these. At least I am when I realise there is also a time to not be unstoppable on the grafting/passion pursuing front! There were other more difficult aspects of him, some of which I have also inherited! And I continue to work with and through these in therapy, under God’s genius and gracious guidance!

And God is the only perfect parent. He accepts me always, however I am. And his love changes me, always, however I am, into something better. Not out of demand, pressure or fear of punishment, but because his love is so pure that it is impossible not to be changed in its presence.

My propensity for being literal serves me well in that I take God at his word. Mostly. Except sometimes when I’m very afraid. But I never withhold what is in my heart from him, whether good, bad or very bad! Because I understand that nothing within me is hidden from him! So I bring it all before him openly and promptly. And because God accepts me because of who he is, not who I am (phew), I am free to bring the best, worst and everything in between to him. I love this. Because he is the greatest help with working through the ugliest parts within me; thoughts, feelings, whatever. He helps me to turn these in to healing, learning and liberation. Wowsers. What a God, what a dad, what a parent.

And he always see’s what folk are up to behind my back – I don’t have to worry about those who do not have my back or even my front, because God has got all of me covered. All I have to do is remain focused on my heart and my conduct, as directed by the ultimate deity.

When I am struggling under the weight of life stresses, unexpected problems or self-inflicted exhaustion, God reminds me who he is. And asks why I am trying to do the heavy lifting without him, given this is his speciality. When I get this, I give what weighs me down to him, leaving me free to walk lightly into whatever God calls me to.

Of course, like most humans, I try to go back and grab these back off God! But fortunately, he’s patient enough to bear with me and work with me without finger wagging or ‘haven’t you got this, yet-ing!’ He continually reminds me through repeated experience that he is trustworthy. Always. In every situation. And my life is always easier when I remember this, in practice and let him carry the load!

As with all relationships, trust is the key foundation. Without trust there will always be problems. And trust is something we can cultivate and grow over time. The more I see, experience and realise God is trustworthy, in actions not just words, the more I can lean in to and upon Him. And practice letting him do the heavy lifting. Life feels much lighter and easier like this. When I remember, in actions not just words!

I remain immensely grateful that when I feel small, afraid or childlike, I have the Father of God to simply and safely sink in to. To rest in his presence and allow him to hold me while I recover or regroup or various other words starting with ‘re’. He is safe. He does not judge me for sharing my heart, or victim blame or shame me for having a heart that is soft and healthy enough to feel hurt. He is a true Father and God of comfort and compassion who constantly calls me to him. To relax into him and switch right off. Safe. Finally. To stop acting like I must hold it all within and together, on my own. He is calling me to take the heavy hurts of my heart, the complex situations/decisions of my mind and the steps I am unsure how to take to him. He really does know the way, and he really does love to show me/you and us his way. Which really is best, in the long term!

With God as a dad, I learn something new every single day. For God is always present, always speaking and always showing me what I need to see and learn. When I am paying attention! Or he does things in threes to capture my attention! While my mind is easily distracted, God knows my heart is always hungry for him and his teachings.

And then last but by no means least, is my Church dad aka the one and only legend, that is Johnboy. The dad who has been dad-in-service for about seventeen years. He has shown me; availability, presence (in person and prayer), kindness, patience, tolerance, humour, practical help, consistency, generosity, faith, encouragement and what we all crave; parental love; unconditional; given out of their goodness, not dependant on ours, huge portions of. Which inevitably comes full circle in time!

I cannot thank Johnboy enough for all he has shown and gifted me with through his parental caring presence. Especially during the horrors of the past four years. He is one in ten million to me. He shows me the love of God in human form. He is not perfect, any more than I am. No, he probably is more perfect than I am, actually! But he is not perfect. And I am not by a long shot! But I don’t need him to be. He is sincere of heart. And this is what gives him ongoing access to mine.

Johnboy – you are a gift from the ultimate giver of good gifts – thank you for being you.

A trio of dads. Lucky me huh!

This Father’s Day, I will be praising God for the trio of dad-cards he dealt me.

Some helped to heal,

where others caused harm,

but God transforms all

through his healing balm.

He leads me through chaos

to his clarity and calm.

Thank you big G,

for always being with me,

the star dad of three

who watches over me

and leads me to be,

so very happee!

That I never face life

Without the presence of thee.

Yippee!

Magical Mondays

This morning I started my day as I start every day. Sat in my prayer chair, opposite the tree, enjoying the utter magic of the early morning. I have a front row seat to the world of wildlife. Whether the cautious squirrel who poses on the fence post podium to eat his findings, or the pigeons flirting in the trees many branches. And the various shaped, sized and sounding winged wonders that sing out from all around. I love, love, love to be an observer of this most magical natural world. From my position here I seek the voice of the one who knows the day I’ll have and the way to navigate it. Magic.

As I work from home in my own magical little bubble, I sometimes forget about the wider world. This morning I was forced out into the world by a routine dental appointment. I was not expecting the volume of traffic I encountered given it was well outside of commuting times. This reminded me that I can never control the external but I can always work on my internal response to it! Along with the never failing, always on-hand-to-help, Almighty!  This is good news for everybody.

And I made my appointment on time. Eventually. I was greeted by a different dental team to previously.

“Oh, you’re a different team”, I blurted out.

“Yes, I am … “, came the reply, followed by an introduction, ending with something like,

“It’s another Monday … groan type noise”.

“Hey, a new Monday equals a brand new day and a brand new week to start again. Don’t forget to seek the magic in a Monday as in any other day!” I chirped, sounding annoyingly chirpy even to my own ears!

However, I do believe that shit, stress and strife await us all. But if we throw away our ability to seek to see the magical that remains within it all, we’re giving away part of the antedote! And I’ve grown through too much shit to do that anymore.

How easy it is to unthinkingly repeat a mantra,

“Mondays are days to moan through the post-weekend misery”.

This makes it a norm that we expect and therefore seek to see materialise. Such a prophecy will often be fulfilled! But do we really want it to be?!

If a job is hated so much that Monday brings genuine misery, do something about it. Stop and seek help to find a different way. I spent over twenty years doing jobs full of Mondays and most other days that felt like an endurance test. (for everyone involved). That was crap.

But eventually I got off my arse, got the help I needed and started to pursue my passions! Aside from the recent horrors of embodied trauma colliding with peri/grief/neurodivergence and burn out, I am now living my dreams. Not without twenty years of slog, blood, sweat, tears and prayers that felt stuck on repeat. And so, sometimes I forget that having worked so relentlessly to realise my dreams, that others are still stuck settling for the ‘same old, same old’, mantra.

WAKEY WAKEY PEOPS!

Life is fleeting, fragile and free for anyone with the heart to receive it, share it, lose it, seek it, find it and keep receiving it.

Make this Monday a turnaround point for Mondays becoming a magical start to the week.

In the words of Van Morrison, there is no need to transform your Monday without the help of the one who can:

“I know that God shines his light on me

Reach out for him, he’ll be there

With him your troubles you can share

If you live the life you love

You get the blessings from above

He heals the sick and he heals the lame

Says you can do it too, in Jesus name

He’ll lift you up and he turns you around

And he puts your feet back on higher ground”.

Yes, yes and yes Mr Morrison and not just on a Monday!

That’s my God (yours if you want him)  – when we call out to him, he loves to show case who he really is. At least he does when we are patient, trusting and committed enough to keep waiting and watching for the wow-ing he loves to give us. In his own sweet time!

Happy Monday peops or if it is not happy, ask for some help from on high.

You have nothing to lose, and all to gain by giving God a try.

Beach-based bliss

Here I am again in my favourite retreat-from-life location, by the sea. I love it! The sea never loses its appeal to me. From that first glimpse of the sea to the sound of the waves. I never tire of the sensory delight of these scenes. My soul savours and inhales them with the fervour of a starved animal with an insatiable appetite!

Fortunately, the night before travelling I was organised enough to pack the car, so there was no need to think or organise myself in the morning pre-caffeine. I can’t drink coffee before I set off as it sets off a series of seemingly never ending trips to the loo. My pre-travel organisation freed me to get up, throw the fridge and freezer contents into their bags and bugger straight off.

I love driving on clear roads ahead of the masses.

Shortly after reaching my favourite sea-facing, food-providing establishment, my very favourite table became available. Don’t mind if I do. It is closest to the sea and furthest from the noise creating crowds. Double bonus. Here I sat and devoured my cooked breakfast, large coffee and view of the sea, each with equal enjoyment. All round yum. I usually eat my food with my eyes as I love to look at a colourful display on my plate, as opposed to a beige one. But to have tasty, varied food and a seaview was extra delicious.

After a while a paddle boarder paddled into my vision. Not something I usually see here. The Saturday morning runners are a regular sight. One I try to get ahead of given I don’t have the patience to get stuck behind them while queuing for coffee. But this single paddle boarder was quickly joined by another, then another, then a whole smattering of them.

As the sun was still shining, which was not what the weather had forecast, I could not resist the call to go out to play in it. Once I stepped on to the beach, it became apparent that it is a new Saturday morning thing for paddle boarders to come out en masse alongside the usual swimmers. Quite a hive of water based activity. It looked fun but way too cold for me.

Instead, I absolutely love ambling along the beach, while the sea laps at the shore. Intermittently the sun came out and blasted me, before the cloud coverage chilled me. In, out, in, out, shake it all about. As if it’s not hard enough having a faulty thermostat in perimenopause without the external temperature changing more frequently than a chameleon.

While repeatedly removing my coat, hat and scarf only to replace them minutes later, I reflected on the parallels with a perimenopausal woman. At least those of us struggling to manage our ever changing basal temperatures. The English weather sometimes scorches me one minute before stinging me with hailstone the next. This is possibly the closest a non-peri person could get to sampling the speed with which a peri navigating body temperature can change. Except when this hot and cold malarkey is happening inside the body, we can’t merely walk into an indoor space where the temperature is regulated for us. The joys!

Anyway, while the sun was out to play, I laid down and kicked back on the pebbly part of the beach. I savoured the view of the waves coming in and out. It’s better than television and somehow the constant repeats don’t get boring. At least not to me. I don’t know what it is about the sea that enables me to sit still. I was reflecting last week with a fellow therapist as to whether the movement of the water allows me to be still while watching it. Who knows. I don’t. But I do know that I love water and it helps me to do the thing I’m so naturally shit at … resting.

The sight of the stones on the beach is another visual delight that I never tire of. The more I look at those stones, the more I see how unique and beautiful every single one is. And the more I want to take heaps of them home with me! It makes me feel both happy and sad to remember that my dad did this exact same thing with the beach and the stones. Once he bought me some stones back from one of his beach-visiting trips as he knows I use them in my practice work. Despite all our years of estrangement, our temporary reconciliation revealed that we both enjoyed solo trips to the sea and stealing stones from them! Something that makes me smile now even through my tears.

And now I feel a wave of grief coming through my system just as the waves in front of me are coming through on the sea. Except I don’t feel free to let my waves come through or crash into completion how they want to. Social conditioning means that while being sat in public, it feels unacceptable to start sobbing and snotting all over the place!

It was grief that made me book this break. I know that spontaneous, to-do-list free time is the best gift I can give myself in grief. A chance to not have to simply suck it up and carry on adulting, but to take time out to be still. To have space, stillness and silence so that whatever needs to come up and out, will.

In this case, grief, complicated grief. But it is still grief, of which I have a lot of experience. I know I need to create the space to go with it, rather than against it. To make space for it to arise without pushing it back down. There is a time to push it back down to prioritise the task at hand but if I constantly push it back down, it will constantly push harder to come back up. And I don’t have the energy to fight such a battle which is working on my behalf to release what is costly to keep in!

Anyway, the earlier beach based playtime that preceded my writing, was drawn to a close by my bladders need to be emptied.

Back to the favourite sea facing establishment. The biggest decision I had to make was whether to sit outside or inside. Eventually my love of being outside won out. I promised my love of indoor comforts that I’d return inside if it got too cold or uncomfortable. A fair compromise.

Today feels how weekend days used to feel as a child, like it’s lasting forever. Having got out of bed at 5.30am, it has lasted for seven hours so far with a further three in between me and accommodation check in. I’m starting to feel ready for my non-negotiable daily nap. Another coffee is buying me more time.

The menu in between me and entry to my accommodation, consists of a walk around the charity shop, possibly a run and maybe a read of the paper. Oh yes and a visit to the tatt filled souvenir shop, just because. Absolutely glorious!

How I love the bliss of the beach. Even with the presence of grief.

The Drama – film review

Who isn’t interested in the shadow side of the human condition? Assuming the spotlight is on the shadow side of someone other than us! The Drama brings this theme to life. These shadow parts usually remain as their name suggests, in the shadows! They don’t typically get peacocked about on self-promoting platforms like social media. Hence the exploration of this subject makes this film especially tantalising.

The Drama delves in to the less polished, more private aspects of two couples. Aided by the lubricating powers of alcohol, the conversation flowed into a confessional. This ignited a conflict between the four main characters. Charlie and Emma take centre stage, (un)supported, by Rachel and Mike.

What follows illustrates the impact of this conversation on Charlie and Emma. The new intel challenged what they thought they knew about each another.

We watch them try to navigate the subsequent changing landscape of their relationships. They attempt to integrate their fears, doubts, unanswered questions and consequent actions. This is particularly delicious because it does not deny the mess, madness or meanness that human revelations can bring. All of which unfolds over the course of an already emotional weekend.

The director uses what is not said to illustrate the couple’s internal conflicts, while they attempt to maintain their socially acceptable, public, game faces. However, social expectations around how one should behave, get shot to shit, when emotions explode out in eyebrow raising ways.

The acting was excellent throughout, but it was Rachel who evoked my irritation, alongside an invitation. At least to anyone interested enough in examining their own responses. I realised I was guilty of the exact behaviour I was irritated by in Rachel! I accepted this humble pie flavoured reprimand, followed by the more palatable laughter of recognition that brings release! Eventually!

This film illuminates the way, as humans, we like to measure our own shortcomings on a more forgiving scale than the one we use for others. Likewise, to others, we may dish out bigger portions of judgement, served with smaller portions of grace. I was certainly confronted by my shadowy propensity to judge another while conveniently blind spotting myself a free pass to do the same!

The Drama also explores the power imbalance between the social powers that be, whether self or peer appointed. And those subject to them. This illustrates the potential reality for anyone banished by those powers, to the frosty realms of the outsider. Along with the cost and threat to self and others, of being ostracised.

This film is for anyone honest, humble and interested enough in the shadow side of the human condition. Especially if open to recognising the human flaws and failings highlighted on the big screen, often reflect our own! 

The Drama delivers a huge dose of drama, within the inexhaustible subject of love! This film speaks to the heart. And it invites us to examine who we use our power to judge, include or exclude.

Bank Holiday bliss

A whole seventy-two hour, funfest. At least when I can resist the pull of the ever growing, ever present to-do-list.

I started the weekend as all good middle aged weekends must start – with an early night! Saturday saw a rare but welcome lay in until around 6.30am. The first reason to celebrate, of the day! Wha-hey!

Followed by spending my favourite time of the day in the garden. Here I sat on what I now call my prayer chair. This is an extremely comfortable chair, that I can lean back in, survey the scenes and send up some super-sized prayers to my super-sized God. It is also a chair I have inherited from the family.

There I sat amidst the wonders of wildlife with a spectator’s view into their world, ahead of the other noisy humans awakening. I watched transfixed as the small, big and medium sized birds came and went from their perches on the branches of the large tree. Two robins made an appearance. Or was it the same one appearing twice? The local black squirrel showcased its trapeze skills as it flew through the trees. I shooed a grey squirrel out of my flowers – I’d been wondering what had been digging these up. And I sat and admired my clematis which has exploded everywhere to decorate my cabin.

The bluebells did their beautiful bluebell thing, and I felt grateful that they have planted themselves in my garden. And I felt equally ungrateful that the dandelions, thistles and other ugly weeds have planted themselves throughout my lawn. Along with the resident ants’ nests that reappear every year.

But overall, when I can’t see the sea, this is my next favourite scene to savour. When I can allow myself to simply be and drink it all in.

Such simple, yet rich pleasures. So effective in soothing the soul. Even better, they are all my very favourite thing … FREE.

Saturday was perfect weather to go out on a playdate with a friend, cycling across the vast green fields to a favourite, craft fayre hosting, spot. This was quite the contrast to last months trip to this place, where the sellers had to pack up early due to the extreme winds.

There is something utterly wonderful about relaxing in the sunshine with a drink, overlooking water and watching the activity all around. When done so from a manageable distance from those noise creating crowds!

Here I was also able to indulge in another favourite pastime of checking out all the stunning, if overpriced, gifts in the shop. And thanks to the presence of my second favourite word, ‘sale’, I even splashed out on a few bits! Mostly for my ‘better-buy-when-see’, Christmas stock. Yes, I did just use the C word!

Anyway, we managed to cycle back before energy levels ran out thus avoiding any meltdowns enroute. After a session of the three ‘S’s’, (separately), we treated ourselves to a Turkish takeout and TV Saturday night. Miraculously there wasn’t even any snoring. I can’t say the same about the farting. But what a way to spend a Saturday!

Sunday started with an equally enjoyable 6.30/7am lay in, followed by an equally enjoyable session in the garden prayer chair.

The first prayer that was answered was the one for it not to rain, as I was hosting a meno walk. My prayer to find the start place of this walk without issue, like many prayers, was not answered immediately. After much F’ing and Geoff’ing, I rang another member of the group to ask for help. And I was grateful when they answered their phone and assisted with directions. 

A wonderful walk followed that saw us surrounded by green space style scenery with some water along the way. And accompanied by those with dogs. I love dogs but as Monty does not, I cannot have my own. So I appreciate time with those who do have dogs.

After a coffee and pee stop at a charming, secluded café, I headed home.

I was running late for my lunch and playdate with another friend. This is one with whom we take it in turns to cook lunch, before relaxing in front of a cheesy, no brain required, film. This is inevitably followed by snoring (her) and farting and belching (me). Heaven!

Another 5* rated day.

And today is a designated ‘me day’. I’ve had a lot of social interaction this weekend so I’m recovering with some serious uninterrupted solitude. Bar the birdsong and Monty’s occasional request for a hug.

Thank you God for bank holiday bliss.

And for helping me to ignore the to-do-list. Mostly.

And for the (free) gift of appreciation.

The God of Odd

The god of all including grief,

Who offers us all such relief

Led me to an expanding retreat

Not only based on what I did eat

Grief can make me feel out of my head

And often want to take to my bed

Especially when I’ve been very well fed

Of good food, company and scenery

There’s a lot to be said

I had large portions of all on this treat

Where lots of interesting folk, I did meet

We talked, we listened & we laughed a lot

There was so much variety in the pot

We all have many stories to tell

And when we’re open to hearing, we really gel

When we’re willing to learn from each other

There’s much that makes us like sister and brother

We all share in this human spirit

With its up and downs, it requires real grit

More so for the lessons that are seriously shit

But offer deep learning when approached with wit

The learning literally never stops

And calls me now to change my socks

To walk in new ways and shoes

So to my great God, stay entirely true

Thank you God

For making me odd

I own all that I am

Cos I trust in your plan

Let’s get this party started ….

The holy sabbath

The holy sabbath

This morning as I hung out with Jesus, I was able to submit enough to seek what He wants to say over what I want to hear! And Jesus does not disappoint. Which is not to say he does not allow experiences that disappoint!  Do not confuse the two!

I was reading about the Israelites spending forty years in the dessert – what a long time. I’m grateful I only spent thirty years in the pre-knowing Jesus desert. Anyway, God used the daily provision of manna (grub), to teach the Israelites to trust Him as provider. He told them to obey his command to take only enough manna for each day and to trust that God would provide enough for every day thereafter.

Of course, human beings were just as wilful, doubting and disobedient back then as we are today. Subsequently, some of them stored up more than a days’ worth of manna, just in case God failed to deliver on his promise of provision. Consequently, when the non-trusting took more than a days’ worth, the excess went off and stank. God was serious about providing enough for each day and no more. He was also serious about commanding them to trust him enough to believe his promises. (He’s the same God today!)

The exception to this daily provision of manna was on a Saturday. God promised to deliver two days’ worth of food every Saturday to provide enough for Sunday too. This was done to establish God’s principle of rest via taking a weekly sabbath/rest day. And when the Israelites followed these instructions, the excess taken on Saturday did not go off. It remained fresh for Sunday. God’s words are true and he delivers on his promises. (Not just back then!)

God was showing his faithful, trustworthy character as a God who provides what we need, to sustain us for the day ahead. God still provides for our daily spiritual, physical and psychological needs, when we remember to ask him. And, like the Israelites, we often doubt him, take things into our own hands and treat him as if his ways are like ours. In other words, we sometimes apply the, ‘if you want a job doing properly’, motto to him. If only we could learn to trust him and his timing, all the time and especially in the super shit looking times. Sigh.

Anyway, I was struck by God’s command to REST in this scripture.

This is not, nor has ever been an optional extra, reserved for the indulgent. It is an essential principle for healthy, God led living. And it is considered a break of his commands to fail to apply it in practice. Gulp.

The sabbath does not have to be on a Sunday. It does have to be one day a week. While the sabbath and rest are not new concepts, they are more significant than ever in these increasingly rest-less times we live in. Which we are worse off for.

Now is the time to re-establish this Godly principle, for this exists for our own health, protection and longevity.

We neglect it to our detriment.

So, what is rest?

Rest is resisting asking anything of our minds, hearts or body’s. Stopping. Refusing to make demands on ourselves or accept demands from others. Of course, this requires a more creative response to those responsible for little people along with their never-ending demands! We all have different challenges and blessings and can seek God for how to work with these. Even then there will always be the exception where something must be done on a sabbath day. But the point is, the exception is supposed to remain the exception, not become the norm.

What might rest look like?

Rest is not necessarily a nap. While a nap is usually a restful, non-negotiable part of my day, this is a complete shutdown of the system. This certainly refreshes and reboots the system, for some of us. We are all different. And the research on the benefits of naps is conflicting at best.

But rest is something we benefit from including within our waking moments. Or rather it is a call/command and invitation to include it for our own benefit.

This requires sufficient self-knowledge to recognise and implement what is restful for us. Again, as we are all different, what works for me, may not work for you.

For me, my favourite form of rest is what I call ‘wall gazing’ time. I literally get comfortable, preferably horizontal, or at least sat with my legs up, and I gaze in to space. Or out the window at nature, or out to sea. The point for me is that I am not actively asking my mind or body to do anything. I am letting my body be still and my mind wander wherever it wants to go.

My mind typically likes to go through the events of the day or to envision dreams for the future. Or to think about the humongous gap between what us Christians say we believe about God and what our lives reveal us to really believe! And more importantly asking God to show me to how to live more like I know that he means what he says. (unlike most of us humans!)

I let my mind roam free and play spontaneously and creatively. I love indulging in wall gazing time. And I rarely prioritise/permit myself to do it!!  Feel free to judge! I don’t profess to be perfect! But I am committed to learning how to do things better. And to being taught by the most phenomenal teacher, who just happens to be available and calling us all.

As someone who needs to process on an extremely deep level due to the depth of my feelings and the breadth of my thoughts, this time is essential REST that allows unconscious processing to occur. And I need to practice more of it.

Rest could also look like laying down listening to music, meditating on the lyrics or simply feeling it.

Or it could be laying down with the cat snuggled on to me with his loud purr-o-metre reverberating through my system.

And sometimes, it is sitting in the sauna, jacuzzi or steam room. I love being warm, I love being in water and when in either of these places, with nothing to physically do, I stop and rest! This offers an embodied reminder of how wonderful it feels to be still.

Rest really is the best. It replenishes our supplies for whatever the day requires of us. It is not only a weekly requirement in the form of a sabbath day. But something we each need varying amounts of every day.

Grief reminds me that I need more rest than usual and I haven’t been having it. God’s perfect timing means I now have a good portion of it stretching out ahead of me.

The question remains … along with a reminder from a prayer partner, will I allow myself to practice this REST malarkey as much as I need it?

Perhaps, as God is the one reminding me of the importance of it, I’ll ask his help to apply it! I often observe how it feels like God answers my prayers for others more than me (so unfair!). Yet I know the ‘help me implement rest beyond and including the sabbath’ prayer, is one that he’ll be all over!

And the best time to practice this rest-fest is NOW … the sofa is calling and the window needs gazing out of …