jo.loach@gmail.com - Life is calling

Trust & Timing

My attention has been drawn to the above over these past few months.

Although there is a time for all things under the sun, sometimes we don’t recognise or trust in the importance of timing.

During our lives there are times of rest and healing, times of preparation and times for bearing fruit and flowers.

These are the cycles of life.

As I look around me at this time, it gives me great pleasure to see the bright yellow daffodils, the blooming blossom trees and the new green buds of life. I am reminded by the cycles of nature that all things happen in their own timing. For each cycle is dependent upon the other cycles in order to reach completion and repeat.

It is no different for us humans in so far as we too go through cycles and seasons.

Nature is dependent upon certain conditions to reach their cycles of fruitfulness and flower blooming. Hence some of the flowers bloomed a little early because whilst the calendar did not state it was their season, the conditions of unusual warmth enabled them to produce ahead of schedule.

Apparently, the daffodils were out so early this year that they are unlikely to last until what is also a late Easter.

We too, require certain conditions as well as the right timing, in order for us to be fruitful.

This is where our ability to trust is so crucial. When we don’t trust or recognise that we may be in a cycle of healing or of preparation, we may push or strive to produce fruit that is not yet ready to be produced.

We need to identify where we are, treat ourselves accordingly, do our part to prepare and trust in the timings of what we await.

When the timing is right for a thing to be borne, the way opens up before us. The red light changes to green and doors that had appeared to be welded shut, spring wide open.

We cannot force anything to happen ahead of its scheduled timing. Neither can we stop something whose time has come.

It is a waste to spend our time and energy attempting to force something that is not yet fully formed. It is better to invest our time in doing our part to prepare for that which will come forth in its allotted time.

Trust is key.

There really is a time for all things.

We would be wise to trust and to rest in this truth.

The need to be loved.

This theme has been bang on my radar of late.

As I prepare a teaching on the call to be loved by God, I notice more and more that at the root of most of our internal struggles is a lack of love, or even a perceived lack of love.

What I mean is that the need to be loved in words and actions is the most fundamental human need in existence.

This is true for every single one of us irrespective of gender, age, faith, class, education, bank balance or anything else.

It is our experience of being loved that shapes our belief about whether we are loveable. And our belief about our love-ability affects how much of ourselves we offer to others and to life itself.

As children we watch the adults around us to learn about love. We notice whether our family tells us in words that they love us or whether they demonstrate their love with physical affection; hugs or kisses.

We watch and we internalise messages about what this says about our own love-ability.

We do not realise as children that the way in which our parents or others love us is usually a reflection of how they have been loved as opposed to a reflection of our love-ability.

All too often I hear of families where children as young as six are told they are too old for hugs and kisses. As if the need for love is not legitimate or life-long.

But the truth is that we all need to be loved throughout our lives.

We need to know that there are people around us who know us well enough to see our flaws but who love us regardless. We need people who don’t ask us to pretend or hide parts of ourselves but who see and love us as we are.

This need to be loved is a basic but critical human need.

When it is not met well enough, it can leave us unable or unwilling to offer our most authentic selves or gifts to the world around us.

This is because it is love that gives us the agency to take the necessary risks to become who we are capable of becoming.

It is love that stops us from settling for or becoming stuck within a life that does not reflect our true nature or potential.

It is love that enables us to live fully.

None amongst us can choose the family we are born in to or whether they have worked through their generational issues enough to be able to love in a healthy way with words and actions.

But, every single one of us whether our experience of love through family or the world at large, has been good, bad or indifferent is being called to be loved by the God who loves us all with a love like no other. He is the only perfect parent in existence and He seeks to love all of us; His children.

His is a love that see’s and knows every thought, feeling or action we have ever had or ever will yet He continues to love us in to the best versions of ourselves.

His love propels us in to pursuing all that we are able to be and to give to this thing called life.

It is a love that sets us free.

Who doesn’t yearn for that kind of love.

Sand, Sea-gazing and elasticated waists

Following a full on seven weeks of post NZ work, play and not enough rest and I found myself summoned by the sea again.

How could I refuse?

After an uneventful journey down, I was met by the sight of a decidedly dark and gloomy looking seafront. Not to be deterred, I found myself a suitable sea gazing spot from which to fill my boots with a freshly served carvery. You can’t beat a roast that some other bugger has cooked and cleaned up after.

Feeling eager, I ventured out for a post lunch stroll along the beach. It was enlivening!

I couldn’t resist using an abandoned stick to write a title in the sand for some teaching I’m preparing. Fun!

But it wasn’t long before the weight of my dinner along with the force of the wind saw me briskly succumbing to the call of my seafront B & B.

Inside, I got in to the perfect Sunday afternoon position; elasticated waist pj’s on, kettle on, TV on, phone off and snacks and newspapers at the ready.

As it was I got to spend the afternoon enjoying a young Sean Connery in ‘You only live Twice’, as well as having a view straight out to sea.

Divine!

A very leisurely, relaxing afternoon and evening followed.

The next morning the east coast sunshine burst through the curtains of my room. Of course, I started it with the obligatory full monty.

The sight of the sunshine shimmering across the sea was too much to resist. I’m not sure where Freya was but I was pleased she wasn’t here.

I ambled down to the sand where I proceeded to slowly meander my way in to the distance, stopping only to take in the sight, sound and smell of the sea. Sense-sational.

How I love free time to be beside the sea.

I relished the luxury of sitting down to read a newspaper each day, with the added bonus of a sea view.

Simple treats.

I ate lovely food and I spent a lot of time staring out to sea and revelling in the freedom from all responsibilities.

As ever, it was over too quick.

But, the next trip is in sight!

Winter Sunshine

What a treat to have temperatures up to 20 in February!

An unexpected bonus!

One that inspired me to take the bike out the shed, pump the tyres up and actually go cycling. Fabulous!

How different life feels when the sun surrounds us.

Last Friday I cycled out to a local garden centre where I proceeded to set up my office at one of their outdoor tables. What a delight to be outside amongst the plants, roaming hens and glorious blue skied lushness. I certainly wasn’t prepared to be sat inside unnecessarily.

Saturdays’ sunny beams even inspired me to get out in to the garden to remove all things dead to make room for all things new. Thus my garden is now a blank canvas ready for all I will plant within it during the new season.

As I worked, I was accompanied by the sound of others in their own gardens all around me; children playing, older children mowing lawns and all generally enjoying the opportunity to be out in the fresh air following months of central heating induced stuffiness.

The air felt light and the atmosphere jovial.

I even had a mid gardening cup of tea and snooze in the garden complete with the cat on my lap. In the name of developing my art of doing nothing!

It’s all about the simple pleasures!

Anyway, where the earlier days of the week had started hazily, Sunday’s sunshine summoned me out for an 8am run. And it’s been a few months since I’ve done one of those! I didn’t even manage one during my second summer in NZ!

Post run, I savoured my morning coffee on the patio where the warmth of the sun upon my face was most un-February-esque but oh so welcome.

As I surveyed the results of Saturday’s efforts in my garden, I couldn’t help but consider the importance of making space in our life for a new season to come forth.

By the same token, I was reminded of all the adverts on line at the moment about de cluttering our homes. Apparently this is the latest on trend thing to do. A sign of the times that we have become so rich in stuff (if poor in time) that we have to make a point of stripping back the stuff that otherwise threatens to own us.

Anyway, the current theme appears to be a reminder that we must make space for what is to come by relinquishing what it is no longer in season and thus serving as an obstruction to the new stuff.

I was struck by the way we seem to be mostly willing to accept and invest in these processes when it comes to our houses or gardens, even calling these clear outs ‘therapeutic’.

Yet when it comes to the ever so slightly more important business of dealing with ourselves, we don’t seem so keen. We don’t appear to make the connection between the need to deal with our old stuff and to grieve our losses that we can make space for the new growth and life attempting to come through.

Perhaps it is not so easy or satisfying to expend our energy on that which is invisible. Yet to invest in sorting through all the old experiences and corresponding thoughts and feelings is to promote growth and healing that releases new emotional energy for that which is to come.

We cannot really ignore all the old dead stuff in our gardens or the stuff bulging out from our wardrobes or cupboards because we can’t avoid seeing it.

How much easier it feels to bury, cover and deny the internal stuff that equally demands our attention.

Are our hearts and souls not even more important than our houses and gardens?

The winter sun may have disappeared for now but the call to tend to our internal decluttering remains, as we await the real arrival of the next season.

The Importance of Doing Nothing

Last Christmas I was fortunate enough to have a month on a dairy farm in New Zealand. This was with a very special family that I first visited in Christmas 2005 which subsequently turned in to me staying with them until August 2006!

We connected.

We fit.

We worked.

To re-establish the connection with them over Christmas by spending time in their midst was the most precious gift to me.

It was family.

And to be amongst them especially around the first year anniversary of losing my beloved spiritual mother, was the most healing and restorative experience.

I could just be.

At first they seemed surprised by my ability to simply sit and stare out the window. But then they realised that I hadn’t lost the plot, I was simply practising the art of doing that glorious thing called no-doing, or nothing!

Effectively, I was doing the equivalent of a phone being on recharge.

It helped that as the farm is situated amongst the green rolling countryside, the view out of every window was pretty spectacular. The assortment of fruit tree’s heavy laden with produce just added to the paradise feel of the place.

And, it gave me immense pleasure to use some of these fresh from the tree’s ingredients to bake all kind of goodies for such an appreciative, quick to devour style audience. As well as producing endless cups of very English tea.

I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful place to simply be with family enjoying cups of tea, long meals, walks and film nights.

It was a real wrench to leave them again having been blessed beyond belief by their gift of time and family.

But of course, life was calling and I had to return.

Having been gifted with the chance to recharge my batteries, I returned to my life with a fresh vigour and renewed capacity for all the things that I love to do. So I hit the ground running and threw myself whole heartedly in to them all.

This has been great.

But, just because I am no longer on holiday does not mean that the need for appropriate amounts of time and space to do nothing has disappeared. And having failed to schedule in enough of either, I was reminded last week that I need to slow down, pace myself better and guard my times to just be. Despite loving all the things I do, the need to also do nothing remains.

I know this stuff but how easy it is to forget. Or to get it wrong as my need for rest alongside my capacity for productivity are not static. I am delightfully aware that my capacity for all is significantly increased this year but I am not yet getting the corresponding balance of rest time quite right.

An article I read the other week also reminded me of the need to do nothing. Apparently the current trend amongst young people has shifted from YOLO – you only live once along with the FOMO – fear of missing out, on to JOMO – the joy of missing out!

And there was me thinking that such a joy, along with an appreciation for staying in and early nights, only arrives with the onset of middle age!

Apparently not as it would seem that even our young folk are realising that non-stop activity no matter how interesting, fun or on trend, is neither enjoyable nor sustainable.

We are returning to the age old wisdom that understands that in order to perform at our peak, we require times of inactivity.

The importance of rest or wall gazing time is for me at least, paramount. It allows me to process and to regenerate the creative juices. Without which I can find myself at a total standstill, feeling blocked. Not dissimilar to when my laptop freezes and refuses point blank to do anything.

I was reflecting upon this the other day when my laptop was going decidedly slow. I performed that high tech restorative operation of switching it off and on again, which appeared to breathe new life and speed in to it.

Gosh, I thought, if even technology needs to be completely switched off from time to time to allow it to function well, how much more must us humans?

It would seem that in order to prevent us from unwittingly slowing down, freezing or even crashing, we need to schedule in time to switch off from the constant stimulation of work, technology and modern day living.

In other words, we need to make time to be.

Be with God.

Be with family/friends.

Be alone.

But just be.

To this end, alongside a refusal to fill all the gaps in my diary, I’ve begun booking coastal retreats for the next few months.

I aim to try harder to remember the need and the joy of missing out, by developing, planning, monitoring and practising the art of doing nothing!

Within a Year

We are now well and truly into 2019. Yet, the theme of change remains, especially around the changes possible to achieve within a 12 month period.

Last week I stumbled upon something on line about a young couple who were hugely overweight. The narrator was drawing attention to the phenomenal following they had acquired as they shared their experience of losing weight over the course of a year.

Seemingly, they were incredibly honest about the reality of making these life changes. Through their hard work, commitment and discipline they were able to surpass their goals. By sharing their experience they were highlighting that such changes do not happen overnight or without cost.

As I reflected on the power of their experience to appeal to the masses, it occurred to me that whilst our culture promotes the illusion of the quick fix, deep within each of us lay the knowledge that this does not exist.

Of course, the idea of the instant cure or the miracle pill that takes away everything that we don’t want to think, feel or basically deal with is an incredibly alluring concept. But it is just that, a concept. Not a fact, nor reality. And furthermore, a concept if bought, that serves to keep us stuck where we don’t want to be.

If we want our lives to be different, we have to do the work of making them so.

We all like and some pray that the changes we want in our lives will drop out of the sky in to our laps with no effort required from us. But what really happens is that our lives look like whatever we have done with whatever has been dealt us.

And if we have spent many a year creating a life that we don’t like, then it is going to take a considerable amount of time to change that.

This sort of cold, hard but ultimately honest fact may deter some from trying to make changes. But, the time will pass regardless. All we get to choose is how we spend it. Invest in that which will take us closer to where we want to be, or expend energy trying to ignore being where we don’t want to be.

I think it is precisely because of the hard reality that change takes time, effort, courage and money, that so many shy away and give up without even trying.

But people like this couple on line showed that if change is possible for an ordinary couple like them, then it is equally possible for ordinary people like you and me.

I think their story is inspiring and encouraging.

And if the size of their following is anything to go by, so do many others.

It would seem that people are not just looking for the fantasy of the quick fix anymore but are actually seeking real life evidence that change can happen.

I guess the increasing number of films based on true stories is further evidence of this quest for that which is real.

As if to re-iterate the point, I accidentally caught a programme I haven’t seen before called, ‘This time next year,’ with Davina McCall. Several people were shown being interviewed a year earlier about the changes they wanted to make with regards to their weight, along with their motivation for doing so. Twelve months later they were interviewed again to share their progress.

Whilst most of these were motivated by some kind of threat to their health, all showed that change and progress are possible. Not easy. But with the right motivation and support, it is possible.

Change really can happen.

As the above examples illustrate if you’d care to look in to them, the amount of change that is possible with any twelve month period can be pretty staggering.

And, it doesn’t have to start in January. We can make a choice to start making steps towards change at any time. If we didn’t start in January, we have by no means missed the boat for 2019.

Right now is as good a time as any to get started.

Just imagine where it may be possible to be by this time next year.

The Easy Path

The above notion has come up a few times recently.

As people have spoken to me they have begun to notice that they are on an easy path, whether by choice or circumstance.

But as they begin to talk about this easy path, it becomes apparent that easy is serving as a smoke screen for boring, deadening and motivation for change, removing.

In short, it is not easy.

Perhaps it started out as easy at a time when easy was exactly what was needed.

But, somewhere along the path, it ceased to be easy.

Instead it became an illusion.

Or maybe a delusion.

But whichever ‘usion’, it is no longer one of ease.

It would appear that, that which initially appears to support us, has some kind of best before date. After which it ceases to evoke the best from within us. Instead it may cause us to trade our hunger for purpose, meaning or fulfilment for the illusion of ease.

If left unnoticed or unchallenged this easy path can slowly and subtly suck out our life blood along with any desire to persevere, grow, learn or take risks.

Ultimately, it can diminish our desire to really live. Not exist or endure, but live, as in fully.

If this happens, something within us shuts down and we begin a descent in to a zombie like state where we lose something of our capacity for full presence or participation.

We may become stuck on auto pilot, going through the motions without fully inhabiting our own experience.

If we remain here, this easy path can turn in to a bad relationship that slowly and subtly steals all confidence, leaving us unable to leave for fear of the alternative.

If this happens, our belief system may suffer.

Where we once believed that we could leave this path to do x, y or z, we may now believe that such an option is not available or viable, or that we are not capable. These new fear based beliefs may feel true enough to prevent us from even checking out their validity.

In short, the fear that attacks our beliefs may bind us to the very path that is stealing our vitality, joy, dreams and even our agency to bring about the very changes we desire.

Basically, we may become stuck on what has become a very ease free path.

Some people may call a rut. As in, you can’t go back, you can’t go forward. You are stuck in a deep rut.

When this realisation reveals itself, we do have a choice.

We can remain there. And adopt all manner of unhealthy behaviours to numb out the reality of doing so.

Or we can seek help to climb out of that rut and on to a new path.

Whilst help may come in different forms for us all, a failure to seek it will leave us knowing that we have traded our dreams or our values for the ease of a comfort zone that ceases to offer any comfort.

Once noticed, this sort of truth will nag away at us despite any efforts to suppress it. It may temporarily disappear but only to reappear a little later with a vengeance.

There are always choices.

Choose to stay and allow ourselves to becoming increasing disillusioned, disengaged and disenchanted with ourselves and our life.

Or, remind ourselves what is important and seek some support to do something about it.

If we can take steps towards a life that reflects our true values and desires, we will find it much easier to befriend the person in the mirror.

Change, as in real change, is never easy.

It does take time and it is hard.

But so is living a life that we have basically opted out of.

Will 2019 be your year to start putting in the ground work for the changes you want?

The Greatest Gift …

These past few weeks have been hard with a capital HA. Yet through them, I have been reminded of the greatest gift any of us can ever receive.

To clarify, I am not talking about stuff with a fancy brand name or an extortionate price tag.

Or even of the outstanding but ever changing beauty of creation.

Whilst I don’t particularly like Autumn or Winter (with Christmas being the exception), I do so love the stunning array of amber tones that we are fleetingly treated to as we transition between the two seasons.

But what I am talking about is the great gift of friendship.

As in real friendship.

Let me explain.

I am referring to those rare and precious individuals with whom we can be exactly who and how we are. The good, the bad and the best not shared in public! The friends with whom censoring is not required, fear of judgment is absent and the knowledge that we are loved is secure.

Within these friendships we can be authentic, real, vulnerable and honest, safe in the knowledge that our baggage, pain and mess will not be treated as a source of gossip but instead respected for the privilege that it is to be shared with another.

This gift is quite simply, worth more than gold.

For these friends offer us mask free time.

They see us.

They get us.

They love us.

They reach us.

Ultimately, they save us from the desolation of being alone.

A priceless gift.

One that no amount of money can ever buy.

In my experience such people are few and far between and it has taken me many years to sift out those who are from those who are not.

In doing so I now feel incredibly privileged to have reached a place where I have several of these very special people in my life.

They have become, quite simply, my family.

Such a precious, precious gift.

The challenge of course, is to find the time and space to actually be with each other. To actually sit in one another’s company to share in and celebrate the victories, to cry and commiserate on the losses and to rant and rage about the injustices.

There is nothing greater than to spend time in the presence of another where both can be seen and valued just as they are. A friendship based on mutuality. One that understands that sometimes I am in a good place and you are not, sometimes you are and I am not, sometimes we both are and sometimes we both are not. Yet always, there is the freedom to be just as we are.

No pretence.

No hiding.

No masks.

Just raw, honest, messy and beautiful, reality.

A reality that is shared.

It is my experience that through these friendships, any kind of pain can be borne.

These friendships are not a given. They don’t just happen. They are something that when found, must be nurtured, protected, invested in and valued.

Nothing can compare.

In our fast paced, achievement and materialism obsessed culture, it is often time for these relationships that suffers. Subsequently, the increased sense of aloneness adversely impacts our individual and collective mental health.

We must learn to recognise that the gift of time spent with those who truly see us and are seen by us, is one of the greatest gifts we can ever give or receive.

It is sacred.

And, I believe, a gift from God Himself.

For, it is true that only God can be God, but it is equally true that we experience Him and His love through the love of our fellow humans.

I was listening to a sermon just last week on what it is to ‘care for one another’. Not superficially. But in the real sense of actually being there for each other not just for the good times but for all times. And a term was introduced which I had not heard before.

It was … ‘co-pain’.

A French word for one who bears our pain with us.

I love that. It’s the greatest gift we can offer another, to be with them in their pain. Not try to fix it, or to take responsibility for it, thus disempowering them, or to speak false platitudes about it, but just to be with them in it. To offer your presence, your attention, your care, your very you-ness.

What a gift.

It is the most important thing we can recognise or invest in to sustain any kind of quality of life. For without an emotional connection to others, something in us dies. We need the spark of the connection to enliven and sustain us, for we live and learn, hurt and heal within relationship.

I was asked recently what it is that humans want most. As an off the cuff reply, I heard myself respond, ‘to be seen, known and loved as we are’.

Isn’t that a universal human longing?

Isn’t it from a place of being loved, that the desire to be all that we can be, flows out from us in to the world around us?

As I look back upon this year, I see that I have continually found myself deep in the wells of grief for the loss of the person who saw me and gave me a mother’s love. At times, it felt like I would never find my way back up or out of the grief.

Yet again and again, these special individuals have met me in that place and helped me to climb back out on the steps of their love.

Wow!

I am immensely grateful for each and every one of them and I make a point of telling them so. I will also endeavour to continue making time and space to be with them.

So, whilst it is true that I have lost the love of a mother this year and that the pain of that continues, it is equally true that I have gained a whole new awareness of the love of those friends who are true sisters.

What richer gift could I realise, receive or give, as we approach Christmas.

A room with no view …

Here I am again.

Answering the call of the coast. I’ve lasted almost two months but it was time to return to the sea. A trip to break up the post summer, pre Christmas stretch.

I’ve got in to the habit of returning to the same places throughout this year that I discovered throughout last year. I couldn’t quite muster the required energy to explore new territory before now.

But this time, I decided to go for it. Explore a new place.

Leaving at 6am on Sunday morning, I enjoyed a straight forward and quiet journey down. Apart from the worrying light on my dashboard that looked suspiciously like there was a problem with a tyre. Damn. Drove extra cautiously as a result, promising myself that I’d address it once there. Not ideal I know!

Anyway, I opted to check out another coastal resort en route to my destination. As I was greeted by a vast expanse of beach stretching on for miles, I took myself for what could only be described as a bracing walk!

Spotted some guys doing what I imagine may be called kite surfing. It looked exhilarating if totally freezing.

Happened upon a little beach front café with a comfy sofa facing the sea. Perfect for a top up of hot tea.

Walked back rather briskly in order to beat the time on the car park ticket. How I hate paying for parking! It wasn’t straight forward either. The sign next to the metre gave a number to call and a code to quote to arrange the parking fee. Yet when I called it, they didn’t recognise the code. Not even when I attempted it another two times. Aaargh! And then when I did arrive back at the car park, I couldn’t find my car! A few moments of panic later and I managed to locate it exactly where I left it, on the floor directly where I had been looking. Saved myself a potentially very embarrassing phone call to the local authority. Phew!

Arrived at my sea facing accommodation to the sight of a car parking space directly outside. Relieved.

Checked in to the Hotel and immediately checked out my room. Old fashioned, dark wood furniture, autumnally coloured window drapes and a surprisingly modern en suite. But alas, whilst the window was tall to match the high ceiling, it also had absolutely no view. All I could see was what looked and smelt like some equipment to do with the extractor for the kitchen, to the left and a wall to the right. If I looked right to the top, I could see a tiny expanse of sky. Disappointing. The bathroom window was even worse with the necessary non see through bathroom style windows.

For someone who loves to be outside, not being able to at least see the great outdoors was utterly dismal.

Not to be deterred, I left the light deprived nature of the room to investigate the nearby harbour and town.

Had a little browse around a charity shop where I treated myself to a pack of three rather attractive pairs of new socks. I’m sick of seeing the worn out unmatching offerings that are usually adorning my feet.

Further explorations led me to discover a wonderful little place to satisfy my craving for a roast chicken dinner with all the trimmings. It totally delivered.

Once I’d got a newspaper, I took a slow meander back to the room for the evening as my early start was catching up with me.

The next day I enjoyed the luxury of getting up at a leisurely alarm free pace to wander down to the sea front establishments.

Found a suitable seat with a proper view from which to enjoy the mandatory cooked breakfast whilst reading Sunday’s leftover magazines.

It was so utterly relaxing, aided by the nearby presence of a ‘free refill on hot drinks’ machine, that it wasn’t until two hours later that I felt the urge to get moving again.

I set off up the coast to the next coastal resort.

Rain was threatening on and off but I made it to another very acceptable sea facing café complete with a window seat to host my next pot of tea and slice of most tasty orange and chocolate cake. Just before the next down pour. More magazines. And another room with a proper view to facilitate more sea gazing time.

Eventually embarked upon the return walk where I noticed a rainbow on three separate occasions in three different places.

Here.

And here, faintly above the houses to the left.

And here too.

A hattrick of them!

Had a last coffee out overlooking the harbour before returning to my viewless accommodation for an evening of film and easy watching TV.

Awoke on day three to the sound of the rain hammering on the viewless window. Usually I’d find such a sound cosy, but in this room, it felt depressing. I needed to leave the room.

Spurred on by the wet and windy weather, I headed for the Hotel gym. Bizarrely, even the windows in here were not the type of glass you could actually look out of! Aarggh.

I followed up my work out with a pot of tea at a table overlooking the wild and dirty looking sea. Here I took the liberty of reading the Hotel newspaper. But not for long as my stomach insisted I take it out for a feed.

In this weather, the only thing to do was to sample the local award winning fish and chip shop. It was good. And certainly silenced my stomach for a bit.

Afterwhich I sought out yet another window with a proper view to accompany me for some more reading. If I can’t get out to be by the sea, I at least want a window through which to look at it!

Finally, I returned to my hotel fifteen minutes too late for a cream tea. Gutted!

My last morning dawned bright and sunny!

So, following a hearty breakfast, I set off for my journey home.

And I was delighted to be back in my beloved bungalow!

Embracing The Ouch …

It is counter intuitive right?

Because our, or at least my natural instinct, is to move away from that which hurts.

What I would like to say, especially in view of my profession, is that I’ve got this stuff nailed. But of course, this is real life and I am one of those real live, messy, imperfect humans! One that has to learn, learn and learn again, how to be with the inevitable. The ouch.

None of us like the ouch.

Yet to refuse it, is to allow it to cause a whole heap more ouch’s until we turn to face it.

I experience this again and again with the ouch of grief.

Every time a new wave knocks me to the ground, I just want to dust myself down and return to normal duty’s as if it didn’t and it doesn’t, hurt.

Like most of the human population, I don’t want to register the pain because I don’t like feeling pain and I do like not feeling pain!

So every time, I have to re-learn all over again, that the only way to live with the ouch that accompanies grief, is by acknowledging its presence and effect and responding with compassion rather than frustration.

Yet my first instinct is still to fight it. I want to ‘win’. By winning I mean, I want to be ok and not let the grief leave me feeling not ok.

But, it is only when I can own, accept and embrace my ouch inducing not ok, that I begin to become a little more ok!

It’s a paradox.

One that is eased when I am reminded that it is ok to acknowledge my grief. I can then relax and stop fighting it. I remember that this does not mean that I am failing, it is not a sign of weakness, it does not mean that I am wallowing, or that I will feel miserable for ever more. It simply means that the grief needs some care and attention.

I’ve had a few reminders of this recently.

I arrived at my house group the other week to discover that we were watching a Nooma DVD (short Rob Bell film on a life theme), called Matthew. None of us knew what it was about. But it turned out to be on death, grief and the importance of making time and space to allow WHATEVER thoughts and feelings need to come out. It wasn’t talking about just allowing the nice/positive/good/acceptable/Christian thoughts and feelings but ALL the feelings, especially the ugly and unwanted ones.

It was a timely reminder.

And it came only two short days after a colleague had reminded me of exactly the same thing about making time and space to allow grief. Not banishing it. Not distracting away from it. But actively inviting it to come and take up its rightful place within my being and my day.

Both of these served to remind me that I do not need to FEAR my grief or any of the feelings that accompany it.

What I do need is to keep practising over and over again what it is to recognise, allow, value, respect, accommodate, trust, welcome and tend to my grief.

As in every time it arises.

Because I have noticed that whenever I finally stop fighting and say to myself, ‘Ok, you feel miserable/angry/resentful/whatever and you are allowed to feel that, just be with it’, it begins to dissipate.

And when I remember to go easy on myself and change down a gear, life becomes so much easier to manage.

I’ve been reflecting on this recently whilst out on my bike. I’ve taken to cycling to work once a week. It allows me to incorporate a bit of physical activity with time out in the fresh air amongst what is otherwise a day spent sat on my backside, inside. I like it. The cycling that is.

Anyway, as I was huffing and puffing my way up a hill recently, repeatedly changing in to lower gears, it occurred to me that this is like life. As in, when things get difficult, or the pressure is on, or we have an unexpectedly high work load, or we are simply dealing with emotional stuff, we, read I, can sometimes expect myself to just keep travelling in exactly the same gear at exactly the same speed.

How ridiculous.

If I don’t even do this to myself on the bike, why do it to myself in life.

What I really need of course is to change down a gear, slow down, make allowance for the new situation and reduce my expectations accordingly. In other words, to partner with myself to be able to keep going but at a realistic pace, rather than setting myself up to fail by attempting to continue in the same gear and at the same pace.

Sigh.

No matter how much I think I know this stuff, I still have to learn afresh every time the new wave hits. Ugh! I wish I was a faster learner!

But, there is another side to facing death, grief and the accompanying ouch. For if we can face it front on, it can urge us to complete an ongoing reassessment of life. What is important and what is not. What gets squeezed out or constantly postponed and what am I going to do about it.

As a result, one of the steps I have taken is to book my return flight to New Zealand. The place where the family I lived with and the beauty and culture of the land was so significantly life changing and healing. It was here that I entered in to a relationship with the living God. Life has never been the same again. Thankfully.

But, it has been a whole decade now since I’ve managed to return. Afterall, NZ is a long way to go and it is expensive. Legitimate reasons right? But this year, when asked to go, I didn’t hesitate. No more delaying what is important.

None of us can guarantee how long our future will be or how much time lay ahead to see the places or people we love. And so, I booked my ticket. Not for next year or the year after or in another decades’ time. I don’t want another single year to pass without doing this so important thing.

Nothing will be the same of course. All will have changed in the past decade. The people, the place and of course me. But I need to go. And I want to go. So I am going.

A few months after booking said flight the tax man very kindly granted me a generous tax rebate to fund my trip. Result! The plus side of my reduced capacity to work and thus to earn this year!

Whilst discussing this NZ trip with my supervisor, who was able to own and express their envy (!), they shared with me how a friend of theirs who was rather wealthy, had always had a dream to go to a particular country. They put it off and put it off until the unspeakable happened. They got a terminal diagnosis and were in too poor health to go. Whilst this friend was looking head long in to the face of death with no choice to go back and do the things they had wished to do, they urged my supervisor not to make the same mistake.

Wise words.

Ones we would do well to heed whilst we still can.

It is all too easy to busy and distract ourselves from anything unpleasant for the entire duration of our lives only to arrive at the shores of death to realise that we never quite got around to doing what we really wanted.

I don’t want that.

No matter how short or long, how painful or how unpredictable this thing called life is, or how utterly awful the death of someone I love is, I still want to try and of course at times fail, to look both life and death square in the eye. I want not just to see the ugliness of pain, suffering and premature death but also to see the great beauty that life still offers.

I don’t want to miss what is possible because of what is not. And if I have to slow down again and again and again to allow more healing to happen to facilitate the longer-term goals and desires, then that is ok. (Sometimes!).

I don’t want to drift through life and in to death. Instead I choose to proactively engage, embrace and take steps towards that which is important. Even when this means slowing down AGAIN to allow for more healing.

At least I’m trying to.

What is it that YOU have delayed and postponed and not made the time or space to make happen in your life?

Time is limited.

For us all.

Make it count.