Life – The middle …

Sleepwalking

I’ve read a few interesting articles about the above recently.

Apparently, some people eat vast amounts of food whilst sound asleep. Other people rack up bills online through sleep shopping. Both acknowledge the presence of stress as a precursor to such behaviours.

I find this a fascinating phenomenon.

Whilst I can’t pretend to fully comprehend it, I do know that we all manifest our internal distress in different ways. For a relatively small proportion, this is expressed via nocturnal activities undertaken whilst fully asleep and thus unable to control.

But there is another form of sleepwalking which is within our control and which appears to impact the masses.

In addition to said articles, this other form of sleepwalking has recently been bought to my attention through the experience of those I listen to. And I am aware that such experiences are prevalent.

What I am referring to is when an individual begins to realise that they have been sleepwalking their way through life. As in, during their waking hours! Not really living, not fully connected, not necessarily aware of the subtle choices they are making and generally existing in a state akin to sleepwalking.

Such a realisation often arises following the arrival of some kind of crap bomb within an individuals’ life. The type that disrupts every part of the life preceding it, evoking great concern as to how their previously ‘comfortable’ life could have fallen prey to aforementioned crap bomb.

When such an individual seeks therapy at this point, we begin to examine and explore their previously unexamined minds, hearts and lives.

What usually follows is that the previously denied parts of the heart and mind, aka the most uncomfortable thoughts and feelings, now have the space to surface, be explored and made sense of.

These explorations usually bring a new level of awareness and understanding about themselves and their lives. This gradually facilitates a reconnection to the whole of their heart as it effectively becomes rewired, bringing with it a renewed capacity for aliveness. Heart, mind and spirit become resuscitated and rejuvenated.

The more they are able to own and process what they previously could not, the more they become able to enter in to, engage with and enjoy the reality of actively and proactively making life choices about their present and future.

The renewed experience of enlivened wakefulness facilitated by this reconnection, then highlights the time lost within a deepening disconnect that left the waking sleepwalker in a state of deadness or numbness.

Such revelations usually bring regret for the realisation of the loss that cannot be recovered.

Painful as these insights can be, they are an unavoidable part of switching from sleep walking to actively leading a fully connected, wakeful life.

All too often it takes the arrival of the crap bomb to shock and awaken someone to the reality that they are sleep walking their way through life.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

We all have a choice.

One that is worth activating before the crap bomb descends.

Although, often people tell me that the very worst experiences in their lives are the ones for which in retrospect, they are most grateful. For these experiences enabled them to see what they had previously become blind to. And at this point, the life that had been reduced to an existence, endurance and survival, becomes ready to change in to a life of active, conscious and connected choices, typically accompanied by a renewed capacity for gratitude.

Whilst the losses must be worked through, what follows is a renewed enthusiasm and energy for reconnection, reclaiming and recreating a life that they actually want to live and remain awake within.

This signals the end of the years of sleep walking and the start of their wakeful living.

Unlike those who unwittingly undertake activities whilst physically asleep, those who are emotionally and spiritually sleepwalking whilst awake, do have a choice for change.

And, it’s not only via the crap bomb that such revelations can occur.

Last week someone was sharing how their entry to retirement has facilitated the necessary time, space and energy to reflect and notice that which previously gone unnoticed.

In their case, they realised that they had been sleepwalking their way through their working life. Where they had been going through the motions on autopilot, they were now reclaiming their capacity to become and remain connected to themselves, others and the world around them. Their quality of life and wakeful living had subsequently improved.

None of us are beyond falling in to a state of sleepwalking during our waking or working lives.

But the key is to prioritise proactively making the time and space to step back from all that distracts and occupies us, to review and reassess where we are, how we are and what and how we are doing this thing called life.

We can’t make, let alone implement choices for change if we are yet to notice that we are sleepwalking instead of wakeful living.

We must first be willing to notice, to see and to respond appropriately including seeking help when necessary.

Life is way too precious for us to allow it to be stolen from under us without us even noticing.

Once fallen prey to the subtle but life stealing way of sleepwalking it often turns weeks in to months, months in to years and years in to a lifetime.

There really is no need to wait for something terrible to shock you out of your reverie, or for a retirement that may never come.

We don’t get another shot.

This is it.

Here and now.

Are you awake?

A glimpse of summer

What a treat this recent weather has been.

On the first day of my week off, I walked up to a local garden centre to meet a friend for what turned out to be THE most delicious green soup. Like ultra tasty. It was also accompanied by equally nourishing conversation, all enjoyed under God’s great sky.

After the refuel, we took a casual meander through the local woods where we ended up overlooking the blue lagoon. The stunning blue backdrop of sky combined with the sun shimmering off the water was the only incentive needed to scramble down from where we were to where the water was.

As we drew closer, the wind dropped, the sun beamed and the invitation to enter the water was simply too appealing to decline.

Whilst I whipped off my boots and socks and paddled around in the cooling waters, my friend whipped off everything and I do mean EVERYthing and proceeded to go for the whole body immersion approach. Yowsers!

‘Is it as cold as it looks?’, I enquired.

‘Yes, even more so’. He replied complete with a very manly roar and a proclamation that, ‘it’s good to be alive!’.

Agreed!

Indeed it is.

Especially on days like those spent amongst the majesty of God’s great playground.

In fact, as we lay on the shore surveying the scene of shimmering stars bouncing off the water, there was a distinctly summer holiday-esque feel to the moment.

Free from schedules, responsibility or time checks, how wonderful it was to simply stop, look, listen and savour it all.

Fan-blooming-tastik!

Following another day of freedom to roam the countryside at leisure, I spent the next day in London where we celebrated a friends’ 60^th with a trip to the Freud museum followed by a delectable lunch. Yum.

After one more day of wild field roaming, it was time for my trip to the Isle of Wight with a friend.

What a truly stunning place.

A lazy if uncharacteristically hot first afternoon was spent at a Donkey Sanctuary. Noisy buggers when they get going.

I was delighted to discover a gift shop and tearoom on site; two of my favourite places. Here I indulged in a super tasty cream tea.

After checking in to our accommodation we headed straight to the beach where the scenes we entered were fresh off a postcard.

An early start on Saturday morning enabled me to take a horse riding lesson on the beach under the glow of the morning sunshine. Just fabulous.

I opted for a leisurely meander back to base along the coast where I stumbled upon a quaint cafe and gift shop overlooking the harbour. I whiled away some time sipping my tea and savouring the view.

One of the things I love most about the water is the way it gets me to simply be still, to immerse myself in the sight of the sun upon the water. It never loses its appeal.

The next day saw us off to the National Trust site of the Needles where we took a chair lift to the beach and a boat ride to photograph the Needles. Although the rock after which they were named has long since been destroyed by a storm. So they don’t look anything like needles.

Back on the beach I tentatively stumbled across the stony beach to paddle in the sea which obviously saw me coming and produced an enormous wave which soaked my dress!! Fortunately, the whole ‘hottest Easter in 70 years’ thing meant it was quick to dry.

It was a wonderful weekend made even more so by the fact that it was Easter. Beyond the eggs and holidays, it is a time of such hope and renewal that in spite of all the trials and tragedies of life, we can still experience the fullness and richness of all life has to offer. How grateful I am that Jesus endured what He did that we don’t have to settle for some half hearted life but can instead embrace and enjoy it all.

The gift of appreciation is totally priceless.

Monday saw us encounter a Roman villa, a small art exhibition, more tearooms, more food, more gift shops, a waterfall and a straight forward journey home.

How wonderful to make time to play, rest and explore.

Grief Revisited …

Grief never really goes away but sometimes it feels closer than others. And these past few weeks have been and continue to be one of those times when its presence is unavoidable. And perhaps that is it, I’ve been avoiding it, happily whiling away the summer immersed in the wonders of denial. I don’t know. But what I do know is it has hit me again with full force. And it hurts. A lot.

First off it got triggered through a seemingly innocent Pixar film. ‘Brave’, in case you were wondering. So much rich material around the mother/daughter relationship, much of which reminded me of the lessons and gifts that Margaret gave me in her mothering of me. By the end of the film, I was sobbing. A good healthy release I thought.

But it continued to simmer beneath the surface for a few weeks. And then an unexpected encounter with the sister who looks so like Margaret, left me totally floored. KO’d they call it in Boxing terms. And it was only the count down on the alarm and the call of my responsibility’s that dragged me back up to face it all again.

I just wasn’t prepared to be knocked clean out by the weight of the grief again. Not that I’m sure we can ever really be prepared. And if we could, perhaps we would simply duck out of its way.

But when these grief phases hit me, those individuals who have been there and just get it, become TOTALLY invaluable. Because grief is painful and lonely enough without being surrounded by people who don’t get it. So when you find those who do, talk to them!

Because grief isn’t something we simply ‘deal with’ or ‘get shot of’.

Grief is something that comes to us and we have to walk it through, feeling it, until it dissipates again. Not that it ever goes away entirely. But it does move out of the foreground at times. At least, that is my experience.

And herein lay one of the difficulties in understanding mental and emotional health.

We live in an age of the instant. Most things can be accessed in an instant.

We want something.

We get it.

Now.

No waiting.

Whether it’s the latest box set online, a car on credit or any other stuff.

No one wants to wait for anything anymore.

We want stuff. And we want it now. Even if we have to work so many hours that we pay with the quality of our life/health.

But when it comes to our health, we can’t have things in an instant. We have to wait. We can’t simply buy our health to be as we want it to be. We have to engage with the process of healing. Even if you can afford to skip some queues by going private. And this process takes time and it brings frustration and a whole bunch of other usually unwanted feelings.

It’s how it is.

There is no other way.

Sure, we can get meds to take away this or take away that but even they come at a cost of side effects.

Health is one of the few areas where no matter how much money we have or how hard we pray, we still have to walk the path of healing and growth. (And ultimately, the path of deterioration in to death!)

There is no short cut for healing.

No quick fix.

No miracle pill.

Or even prayer.

It’s just hard.

And any denial or glossing over of that fact, makes it harder.

Unfortunately, our culture just wants to pay or pray to get rid of anything it doesn’t want to feel. And this applies as much to a broken limb as to a broken heart.

We want it better and we want it better now. And we’re willing to pay.

But there are no instant magical cures.

The human body and soul can break. And when they do, they need time and care to heal. No amount of money can pay to fast track this.

We don’t like this. We want the meds to spare us or God to heal us in an instant. And when these don’t happen, we often just don’t know what to do with ourselves and our frustrations, disappointments, resentments and plain sorrows.

We haven’t learned. We want health given to us on a plate. We don’t want to engage with a process that can evoke more pain, to reach the place of healing.

We don’t like it.

And I am no exception.

I don’t like feeling full of sorrow. I don’t like the emotional fatigue that accompanies it. I don’t like the loss of energy. And I don’t like not knowing how long it will last.

I just don’t like it. In fact, I totally ****** hate it. (And of the course the anger part of grief is SO socially unacceptable!). I Understand it. But that doesn’t afford me a fast pass through it.

However, I am learning not to waste my currently diminished energy reserves on fighting the process. Some of the time!

If I feel crap, I cut myself some slack. Mostly! I let myself off the hook a bit. I pull back. I say no. I take any self imposed pressure off. I tend to myself in the way that I need. Just as I might encourage another to do.

Because sometimes, this business of being a human can really hurt.

And what none of us need when we’re hurting is to put ourselves under unnecessary pressure. Sure, life doesn’t stop for any of us. But we can look at our loads realistically and decide what can wait.

We can in short, look after ourselves with compassion and understanding rather than impatience and condemnation.

I’ve experienced a lot of sorrow these past weeks and I continue to do so. I’ve also heard about a lot from others. From friends. From neighbours; a suicide at the train station. And from a film, A Star is Born. Beautiful but devastating and topical.

Death.

Grief.

Loss.

Endings.

Disappointments.

Life.

Sometimes it just hurts.

Pretending this is not so is more damaging than finding the courage to face it.

We all love instant gratification.

But we seldom grow through it. Anything worthwhile having, especially our health, takes time. Time to nurture and care for and time to heal when it gets damaged, hurt or broken in some way.

We don’t get to choose how long the process will take. We get to choose only how we will treat ourselves whilst going through it.

Patience, compassion and a capacity to recognise the presence of God, are absolutely key.

On being strong …

I feel compelled to write about the idealised notion of being strong. Of course, it is not possible to write about being strong without also writing about being weak, for these are opposing sides of the same coin.

As in, the coin of humanity.

Us.

You.

And me.

In recent weeks, I keep hearing people talk about their ‘need to be strong’.

This is classic black and white, either/or, thinking in terms of absolutes. Either I am strong or I am weak, with little awareness much less acceptance that we are all a combination of strength and weakness. This is what makes us whole.

Let me explain.

There is a culturally driven, not always conscious idea that being strong is the only acceptable mode for any human to admit to. This means that people fall in to the black and white trap of thinking if you are not strong, you must be weak. A seemingly unacceptable mode to admit to.

But here’s the thing.

No human is only strong, all the time, in every way. Except perhaps, the exceptionally deluded. This means that in real terms, we all have strengths and we all have weaknesses. Most would agree to this in intellectual or theoretical terms but when it comes to real felt sense terms, most of us struggle to admit to needing help, feeling vulnerable or simply not being on our game, for fear that this makes us WEAK.

As weak is a mode that our culture has indoctrinated us to instinctively deny experiencing, we may consequently engage in all manner of cover up ops to conceal our perceived weakness.

If we think about it, this is really rather animalistic. For it is animals that conceal their weakness in order to avoid becoming a target for a stronger prey.

Do us humans, who pride ourselves on our ability to reason as differentiating us from the animal kingdom, really treat each other no differently from how animals operate. As in, the strong attack the weak? Yes, there is of course truth in this.

Whilst we can all be guilty of using our power and our privilege without conscious examination, there will always be those who intentionally capitalise on the weakness of others. Yet this is not a reason to disown or deny our weaknesses, but a need to discern those worthy of sharing them with.

This makes our desire to be seen as strong rather than weak, or both, an expression of preservation as well as at times, of pride.

Yet when we go a little deeper we have to acknowledge that as humans it is only by owning our strength AND our weakness, that we can become whole.

No one is strong at all times.

We all have our weaknesses.

There may be academic weaknesses. For example, my brain does not appear to be wired to understand anything relating to the scientific. This is a natural weakness which I could work excessively hard to improve but for which I have naught desire to do so as it bores me rigid. I accept this reality about myself.

However, where things get more complicated is when we associate weakness with being emotional or simply feeling anything other than our culture’s constant push for us all to promote 24 hour positivity.

And therefore, I regularly hear people telling me that they can’t allow their own sadness/frustration/resentment/disappointment/anger to come forth because to do so would make them feel WEAK.

According to popular opinion, being happy and positive all the time is a sign of strength. A notion that can be perpetuated in the Church. Which always leaves me wondering why no one thought to tell Jesus this during his times of anger, sadness or of course, his most monumental moment upon that cross.

Consider too the moment where Jesus see’s Marys distress over the death of Lazarus. He wept. Now imagine one of our present day English Christians telling him in no uncertain terms to, ‘get a grip, pull your socks up, life goes on/children in Africa are starving (to the PC crew, I am not denying nor belittling this reality, simply highlighting that one form of suffering does not cancel out another), you just have to be strong, there is no point crying over spilt milk, MAN UP, grow a pair, don’t you know you are the son of God/God, that is in the past, don’t you know how this story turns out’, or any other manner of popular – DON’T SHOW EMOTION IN FRONT OF ME BECAUSE I CAN’T EVEN COPE WITH MY OWN, type of responses.

Imagine that!!

I know, at least I would like to think, that no one would say such things to God Almighty.

Why is it then, I wonder, that these are considered completely acceptable to be rolled out repeatedly to the people we claim to care about, during their most vulnerable moments when they are struggling with the most painful emotions?

We must examine this for we cannot support or hope to heal the parts of us that feel weak because they hurt in some way, by hiding them behind pretend strength. That is just a total waste of energy, at a time when energy may already be in short supply.

Admitting that we get hurt and subsequently feel upset confirms our own humanity. Without which, we can only hope to become a cold, hard, shell of a human/nation.

It is time to out this ridiculous notion of always needing to be strong. What each and every one of us really needs is people and places where we can be honest and vulnerable about the times when we feel weak because we are hurting. People who will not shut us down by re-enforcing the ‘you’ve just got to get on with it’ approach.

Sure, life does indeed go on with all its demands, expectations and responsibilities. But, this does not mean that it is not appropriate and at times mandatory to allow a little time out for the business of healing and resting.

Imagine telling someone with a broken leg to just get up and get on with it. Most people have a little more understanding and empathy than that. A broken leg needs some time for total rest before the leg has to be stretched with various exercises to develop and regain its strength and ability to function.

It really is no different with matters of the heart and soul.

There is a time to rest, a time to heal and a time to push ourselves to develop our genuine strength once more. All of which takes … time.

It is unfortunate that even here in 2018, the majority remain stuck in the delusion that a human that admits their humanity, vulnerability or struggle, is WEAK. And for some, a target for exploitation.

If only we would begin to realise that in admitting to our weaknesses as they arise, we can actually seek the selfcare and support that we need to heal and to become genuinely stronger again.

By denying our times of perceived weakness, we agree to feigning strength until something breaks.

That something being us.

We all have times where we feel weak and we need to be around others who will not judge or dismiss us but who will offer empathy and support. Without fearing that to do so is to encourage someone to ‘wallow’. Denying pain doesn’t make us strong or make the pain disappear. It just pushes it deeper and delays the process of healing as well as unnecessarily complicating the whole matter.

It tends to be those who recognise and acknowledge their own weaknesses that know how to be genuinely supportive of others. Whereas those still caught in the delusion that any confession of weakness makes them WEAK, will tend to shut down others in the same way they do to themselves. Sometimes people just don’t know how to respond in the face of pain, whether their own or others.

The bottom line is that the strongest thing any one of us can do, is to admit when we feel weak, respect this is an expression of our own humanity, respond to ourselves with compassion and ask carefully chosen others for support.

That is real strength.

The overall point is that it is not really about being strong or being weak but about being whole by being all that we are.

Indulgence or Preservation … ?

Two weeks after my birthday/holiday fortnight of fun and freedom and I’m back in to the swing of work.

I love it.

And I consider it a privilege to do it.

What I am immediately struck by since my return, is the theme of selfishness.

But what do any of us actually mean by the term ‘selfish’?

For it appears that we live in a culture that can be prone to judging those who practice any form of self-care, as being selfish.

What nonsense.

There appears to be a lot of culturally embedded, often unconscious, definitely unhelpful, life limiting ideas, that encourage us to totally overlook ourselves in favour of caring for others.

As if this is a higher path as opposed to a martyrdom who’s only achievement is to risk the health of the one practising it. For which no one benefits in the long term.

Unfortunately, a misunderstanding of scripture can further exacerbate the problem by reinforcing these ideas. For example, the scripture, ‘Love your neighbour, as yourself,’ is usually referred to with a complete omission of any acknowledgement much less understanding or application of the ‘love yourself’ part. Although the love yourself part is there in black and white equally as clear as the love your neighbour part, it is often treated as if this is not so.

This is a collective, corporate and cultural blind spot.

One that is in dire need of bringing in to focus to re-examine.

An emphasis on putting others first can obscure the need to include appropriate care for the self. It can also subtly infer that to care for the self is to be selfish or in conflict with God’s word. This despite this being an obvious example of cultural influence obstructing the view of what the scripture actually says.

The reality is that despite culture’s propensity for enforcing what are often life destroying notions, in this case of failing to appreciate the legitimacy of self-care, this subject is not just a nice idea but an absolute necessity for self-preservation. At least if wishing to sustain any capacity to care for others for any length of time.

Like many things in life this is a classic example of not being a case or either/or, but rather of both/and. As in, it is not appropriate to practise caring only for others any more than it is to appropriate to practise caring only for the self. We need to care for self and others. But, in order to continue caring for each other, we must first ensure that we are continuing to care for ourselves. Not just to be in a fit state to continue caring, but that the act of caring may continue to be an enjoyable one (in the main!).

The consequence of failing to practice appropriate on going self care is that we unwittingly create the perfect breeding grounds for stifled resentment, frustration, disappointment and anger. Inevitably at some point, these stifled, denied emotions and needs will get acted out in some way that causes more harm than acknowledging and acting upon them in the first instance.

Better to conduct an honest examination of the self before this point.

The facts are that we have all have needs. We all have thoughts and feelings. Some wanted, others not. And we all have a responsibility to ourselves and to others, to examine and respond to these appropriately. This is what self care is.

Failing to do this simply signs a warrant for bigger issues.

Something that we do of course all fall in to the trap of doing at times.

The bottom line is that caring for ourselves is no more an act of self indulgence than caring for others in an act of other indulgence. Which is not to say that there are not times where it is good and proper to indulge the self and or the other. But this is as an aspect of self care, not selfishness.

Overall, far from being selfish, caring for the self is an act of self-preservation. For when we do not take seriously or respond appropriately to our own needs for care, we limit our longevity or ability to care for others.

It is not selfish to take care of one self.

It is utter foolishness to fail to take care of the self.

The question is, what does self-care look like for each of us?

A question for which there is no one size fits all kind of an answer.

But a question that it would be a worthy investment of time and thought, to consider and implement.

And when others have something to say about the ‘selfishness’ of your commitment to practising self-care, just remember that what other people think is for them, and not you, to deal with. More often than not, those who criticise others for practising self-care are often struggling to practice sufficient self care themselves.

Trust yourself.

Make time for yourself.

Listen to your own needs.

Respond with compassion.

In short, treat yourself, as you would treat others.

Or maybe, love yourself, as your neighbour.

These are lessons that I have learned through hard experience. Lessons that I continue to learn and continue trying to apply. Without always succeeding!

Sometimes, some folk comment about the number of breaks I take. ‘you going away again are you Jo?’. ‘Yes, I am’, I reply! For it is I and I alone who understands the impact of my work and I and I alone who is responsible for applying sufficient enough self-care to ensure that I can continue not only to do what I do but to do it whole heartedly. Whether others understand or not. And so it is a responsibility that I take very seriously and I encourage others to do the same!

For the degree to which I practice self-care shapes and influences the degree and the quality of that which I can offer to others.

Self-care is ultimately about preservation, not indulgence. Although indulgence most certainly has a part to play!

What do you need to preserve yourself and thus your ability to care for self and others?

Sea & Solitude

Following an incredibly sociable birthday, I was in need of some serious solitude.

Cue, a trip to the coast.

It didn’t disappoint.

My B & B room offered a balcony with a seaview. Proper lushness!

Obviously my first stop was for cod and chips. Would have been frightfully rude not to.

Eaten under the opportunistic gaze of this fella. Who left empty beaked.

After that lot, I was in dire need of a little rest.

So I had one here.

And another there.

Before returning to my room for a rare night of TV!

Day two saw my intended walk rained off so instead I drove to a near by village to check out their Art & Craft Centre. I love those places.

Saw some great signs.

Upon my return, I took myself off to a seafront establishment where I enjoyed food for eye and soul.

Before heading off for another sea front stroll.

I just never get tired of scenes like these.

But eventually felt the call for more food. Opted for a trip to McDonalds. Easy. Or so I thought. Little did I know that it had changed somewhat in the years since I last visited! Firstly, most people were ordering from intimidating looking flashy screens. I opted for a human. Then there was the business of attempting to choose something off a menu that doesn’t stay still. Mid reading it, it changes to a different page. Aaargh.

Anyway, I eventually managed to order some chicken things. But five minutes after paying, I was still waiting (impatiently) for my human to bring me my food. As I surveyed the room, I noticed that there was an Argos style kiosk where people took their receipts up to collect their food upon their number being called. Oh! I fished my receipt back out from the bottom of my bag and hey presto, mine was ready! How times move along without me!

Anyway, day three dawned bright and hopeful looking so I set off for my eight mile walk along the coast.

I was greeted by these.

And then at one point I had stunning green countryside to my left and the calm endless mass of sea to my right. A feast in all directions.

No matter how far I walked there was more spectacular sights to see.

It was a fab walk.

Came back for a relaxing film evening before my last day where I arose for a sunrise run along the sea front. Fantastic!

Enjoyed one last cup of tea from my balcony.

A lot of time was spent walking but an equal amount was spent with my feet in their favourite position whilst my eyes and belly feasted on all that was to offer.

I left feeling full and ready for my return to work.

Sunshine … and rain …

No sooner had I written about the joys of my seemingly endless summer of blackberry picking, bike rides, stream paddling and all things Enid Blyton, when the weather abruptly switched in to what felt decidedly like Winter. At least in comparison. A drop from 31C to 16C.

What a shock to the system!

Many welcomed this.

Not me!

But how quickly change can come.

I reflected upon this earlier in the week as I walked through the fields, accompanied by the constantly changing sky of sunshine and clouds (hoping that it would not rain before I got home).

As I did so I had to acknowledge that both sunshine and rain are needed.

Whilst I love the sun, the summer and all things light and fun, this is of course, not the whole deal. Nor can it be. As much as I have loved this summer of sunshine, it has not been good for all.

In fact, it’s even been fatal for some of our most vulnerable; elderly or infirm.

And, having regularly walked through the farmer’s fields and thus witnessed the sun scorched crops, I’ve felt prompted to pray God’s provision upon them. (I’ve learned over the years that there are no limits to the ways in which God can make provision for us when the unexpected happens). Of course, there will also be a knock-on effect upon pricing for us, the crop consumer.

So, whilst the general consensus is that most of us tend to feel better when the sun is shining (around the mid twenties not thirties), the fact remains that our land cannot survive on sunshine alone. It needs rain too.

Both are needed. Neither work in isolation of the other. They work in unison. Ask a farmer.

Or look at the ‘green spaces’ around. They cease to be green. More of a sun scorched yellow.

Clearly, sunshine alone does not allow the land to thrive.

Even this beauty cannot survive let alone thrive on sunshine alone.

As I looked at the fields that day beneath the rapidly changing sky, I couldn’t help but reflect on the parallels with life.

We all love the good sunny times where everything goes to plan and we feel like life is smiling upon us. Yet things can change in an instant when unexpected difficulties appear in the form of unforeseeable bills, problems, tragedy’s or losses of all shapes and sizes.

Nobody likes this fact.

We can feel hard done by when hit by the unfairness of life.

And of course, the truth is that life is unfair.

For all.

But what is equally true if we care to really think about it, is that life also deals out unfairness the other way around.

What I mean is, that life doesn’t simply spit out misery at seemingly random, always unwanted, moments. Because if we are really honest, it also at times gives us unexpected (and unearned) good fortune. It is just that somehow, we seem to be better at developing amnesia about this kind of unfairness! Myself included. It’s called being human for us humans are way better at remembering what hurts, over what helps or heals!

Life brings joy and life brings pain.

To all.

Without exception.

Or explanation.

It may look different for each of us but it is true for all. Whilst it is easy to fall in to the trap of comparing ourselves to others, it certainly isn’t helpful. We seldom get the full story of the lives of others. Especially if using Facebook as a source of evidence!

I don’t pretend to know why joy and sorrow visit us all. I know only that they do.

Like I equally know that God is my only constant. The very same God who allows me to receive good things that I don’t deserve that have come through no efforts of my own, not only allows these good things to be taken away but also allows me to receive bad things that I equally do not deserve and have not contributed to receiving.

The very same God.

A God who tells me in his word that I will have trouble in this world but a God who also tells me that Jesus has overcome all that life threw at Him. And God promises that Him, Jesus and the Holy spirit will help me to overcome all that life throws at me.

Overcome not meaning avoid, deny, pretend, ignore or sweep under the carpet, but actually overcome. Which in my thinking, not only means to assist me to continue being all that I am capable of being and contributing all that I can to this world, in spite of my own regular deliveries of crap parcels. As well as aided by the unexpected bonuses. But also, to continue living my life with a heart that is open to all that arises.

This God offer of assistance is lifelong.

For all seasons of life.

The joy and the pain.

The sunshine and the rain.

In the words of the Maze song! If you don’t know it, check out the lyrics!

I am reminded of these truths not merely through the fields and the sky but also through my own life experience.

For, just as I have loved the sun drenched days of these past two months, I have also enjoyed a lightness of heart, even more appreciated and enjoyed following the early months of this year where I felt drenched in the gravity of grief.

Yet in these past few weeks, the sadness has begun to arise again. I sense it around the edges of my soul, creeping closer and closer. Only this time I refuse to deny it. I know it is there and I’ve been expecting it. I can acknowledge, name and allow it to come forth and do its work of healing. In the main!

There is of course part of me that doesn’t want this sadness to come again. I have so enjoyed these few months of sunshine and joy, I don’t want more pain or rain.

Yet experience repeatedly reminds me that when I fail to grant my sadness the same respect and attention that I freely give my joy, it begins to block my internal well spring of joy, taking with it my 3D full colour experience of living.

And I don’t want that.

So this week I gave myself some needed space to allow my sadness to come forth.

Crying is so healing. And so precious to our God and Father that he welcomes and collects our tears. Wow!

Afterwards I felt a fresh wave of joy as I wandered freely through the fields. The joy of feeling the sun and the breeze on my face, the space of the open countryside and the time to follow a path that I hadn’t explored before. I felt truly alive and flooded with gratitude.

That’s the thing about grief and sadness and whatever life throws that wounds our hearts. As we allow ourselves to experience and acknowledge our losses and our pain, a new awareness and gratitude arises in response to the simple gifts that life offers even in the midst of the hardest of moments.

A gratitude that fails to come forth when we fail to acknowledge the depths of our sorrows and pain. A gratitude that gets lost and blocked behind a wall of cynicism and sarcasm. Sure signs that we have closed and hardened out hearts in an attempt to block the pain. Not realising that in doing so we also block the joy awaiting to come forth following it.

Sadness and sorrow always feel more painful following periods of contentment and joy for it can be all too easy to forget that the sun will shine again.

Change can come in an instant.

For joy or for pain.

Wanted or unwanted.

And we can adjust.

If only we will acknowledge the need to.

Imagine if we denied the change in temperature and continued to wear clothes fit for a sunny 30 something day when it was raining and cold. We don’t do this. We know that we require protection from hot sunshine just as we do from the rain.

Yet when it comes to matters of the heart and soul, how often do we refuse to prepare or to care for ourselves in the face of the actual as opposed to the wanted season and conditions.

We must learn to work with where our hearts are. Not where we wish them to be.

In doing so, the season of sorrow will pass with more ease.

I regularly hear people tell me that they ‘should’ feel this, that and the other as opposed to what they do feel. And it is often the ideas about what we think we should or should not feel that causes further and unnecessary difficulty.

We feel what we feel.

It is not about attempting to force ourselves not to feel what we feel, whether by attempts to intellectualise, pray or even brute force it away.

What is important, is what we do with what we feel.

This does not mean living by feelings alone without reference to the capacity to think about what is felt or to discern spiritually what is happening or what response is required.

But it does mean we need to cultivate the capacity for compassion.

We still live in what is very much a culture of dismissing any sign of sorrow or pain as ‘wallowing’ or ‘weakness’, despite the truth to the contrary.

We would do well to give our sorrow and pain at least as much attention as our joy and happiness.

The two are a package deal.

We cannot separate them.

Without losing something of the ability to feel alive.

The reality is that life is made up of joy and of sorrow.

We can no more stop this than we can control the sunshine or the rain.

But what we do get to choose is how we respond to these by what we do with them.

Just as we take care of ourselves by preparing for sunshine or rain, we can also take of ourselves by preparing and caring for the varying seasons of our souls.

We need both.

Joy and pain.

It is my pain that increases my capacity for joy and appreciation. At least when I can confront it with honesty.

And it is the joy of loving, that can turn in to the pain of losing.

But, I certainly don’t imagine that God sits at his drawing board planning personalised crap parcels for us all, just to develop a bit more gratitude within us. Whilst I’m sure there is much that God does for each of us that we are not even aware of much less thankful to Him for, He is not in my experience a punitive God. He allows hard stuff and I don’t know why, but I do believe there are reasons that are beyond our vision and comprehension and that God remains the key to finding our way through.

We can fight these hard facts of life forever more, or we can learn to work with what comes. Which doesn’t mean we can’t have a few tantrums along the way or at times feel utterly defeated! We just need to engage with these honestly and to seek the help of God and each other, not to remain in these modes!

Because, just as too much sunshine hardens the ground and the rain softens it, so too can the tragedies of life either harden or soften our hearts depending upon our willingness to fully engage with them.

Of course we’d rather this was not so and we‘d rather the pain stayed away.

At least I know I would.

But the reality is that we cannot stop the sunshine or the rain, the joy or the pain.

Yet we can prepare and practice taking appropriate care of ourselves in the face of every season, of weather or soul.

Simple Summer Pleasures …

I have always loved this time of year best.

And this year is no exception.

The heat can be energy sapping but overall it’s my favourite time of year.

The ongoing invitation to be outside without worrying about getting cold is just too good to pass up!

And so I start each day with my morning feast outside on the patio under the parasol.

Food for my body. Flowers for my soul. God’s word for my spirit.

What a way to start the day. As in every day!

Then, in between clients when I’m working in Hitchin I grab myself a swim in this beautiful facility. Not so nice when overrun with the masses.

Once a week in between my private clients, I have myself a reading date. I so enjoy reading and yet no matter how big my pile of ‘currently reading’ books gets, if I stay at home, I’ll never get beyond the distractions to actually reading any of them. And so, I introduced the weekly reading date where I’ll take myself somewhere beautiful then intermittently soak up the environment and read my books. It’s heavenly.

In addition, I’ll take a ‘writing, thinking and dreaming’ date, also once a week. As I don’t see why these ought to be restricted to the stuffy confinement of my office, I vary the location.

Last week, I set myself up on the bank of the stream just by my house. It is truly beautiful, peaceful and refreshingly cool to paddle about in.

As the horses have just given birth, I also got to witness a new born frolicking around with such joy, whilst its mother attempted to keep track.

As I watched this scene play out before me, I could not help by reflect on how much we can learn not just from nature but from animals. The young are so full of energy and life, so open and joyful about the business of simply being alive. As evidenced by the antics of this new foal.

So open, so trusting, so joyful.

But I see this in dogs too in the way that they run with such utter abandon, tongues out, fully engaged in the moment. Heart warming to witness.

And a reminder of the challenge and invitation to those of us who are far from new born and not of the animal kingdom (in the main), that we too can remain open hearted to all that this beautiful gift of life offers (yes, even with all the cruddy bits), because as soon as we start closing down our hearts behind a wall of cynicism, we stop really living. We begin to become half hearted. And as far as I’m concerned that is no way to live. (I know, I got stuck there for many decades before I met my Jesus).

Anyway, all this time outside in the glorious sunshine is such an utter delight.

I’ve even got the bike that hadn’t made it past the back gate in two years, out on to the roads. It’s been fantastic to rediscover the joy and the freedom of cycling. Especially when there is unexpected fruit picking opportunities on the way and essentially a pub grub food stop.

Of course, I love to potter about in the garden too trying my hand at a bit of fruit and veg. Can’t beat using a Google inspired recipe to cook produce straight from the garden. I had some super tasty sweet mange tout this year, although not many of them.

My courgettes have failed miserably having not produced a single courgette (I had a plentiful crop of them for the past two years). However, a lovely, generous friend very kindly gave me a heap from her crop. Result! So, as I have guests over the next few days, I’ve made my first ever courgette and lime cake.

Seriously sumptuous!

And a lovely neighbour has supplied me with tomatoes and cucumber from her garden. They make a luscious Greek salad.

These summer days are rich with the offer of so many simple pleasures that I just love to indulge in. From country walks and bike rides, to paddling in streams, picking apples and blackberries and experimenting with new recipes, to eating outdoors morning, noon and night, to simply absorbing the beauty of the flowers and the nourishment of home grown fruit and vegetables. And of course, an ample intake of icecream.

Whilst sleeping sufficiently is challenging and I’m most certainly not at my most productive this summer, I really am loving nearly all that it has to offer.

So many simple summer pleasures.

And many are absolutely free.

An Inside Job …

A few months ago whilst a good friend was putting up some shelves in my cupboard, he discovered an issue with damp.

Upon further investigation it became apparent that the source of this damp was actually the shower next door.

Apparently, the grouting within the tiling in the shower was not done adequately. This meant that the whole time I have lived in the property and used the shower, the water had effectively gone straight through the tiles in to the inner walls and beyond.

Consequently, as water spreads, it had ruined the immediate internal wall, spread further around the bathroom, was beginning to split the skirting boards and was evident in the cupboards and carpet of my back hall, which is where the issue was identified.

Basically, this internally rooted and thus invisible issue, was beginning to make its presence seen and felt externally.

A simple failure to create an adequate boundary had resulted in water getting in to places that are not made for water. The result of which was that a lot of damage was caused.

But, as the damage started internally, it was initially invisible and thus able to continue its work of destruction undetected. But as with all internal issues, when left for long enough, they begin to manifest externally.

I think we know and accept that should we choose to ignore such a problem, it will not simply disappear in to oblivion. No matter how much we may will it to do so!

Instead, that which we ignore, we permit to continue a work of destruction.

And destruct it does.

As was discovered once the internal walls of my bathroom and hall were investigated.

Of course, what could have happened is that the external damage could have been painted or covered over. Yet without dealing with the internal source, it would manifest externally again.

As a Psychotherapist, I can not help but make comparisons between this and the complicated and messy business of being a human. Further hindered by the cultural thinking that deludes us in to pretending that if we ignore any kind of internal issue; traumatic experiences, childhood difficulties, unwanted/uncomfortable feelings, it will simply float off never to be seen (or felt) again.

There is this idea that if we ignore such matters, they will disappear. Such thinking even goes a step further by imagining that if we uncover and explore the source of such issues, we will be causing ourselves unnecessary problems and pain.

In other words, we will come face to face with that which will cause us time, effort, money and potentially pain, to deal with. What is so often not acknowledged is that it will cause us considerably more time, effort, money and pain, to permit it to fester. Maybe not in the immediate term, but most definitely in the longer term.

And so it is that one generation teaches the next the art of sweeping things under the carpet. Something us English folk are in a league of our own with. To our detriment. The collective Society sized carpet of our nation must be at an all time ‘high’.

There is of course a time for when maintaining a stiff upper lip to get through a particular situation can be a sign of strength. But if engaged with as an everyday way of being, you are guaranteeing yourself a lot of unnecessary future issues. Issues whose consequences would be far less reaching were we to face up and deal with them a lot earlier.

It’s a problem.

One reflected in recent statistics regarding the mental health of our Society; from the very young to the very old and all in between.

We’re struggling.

Something, or in truth many things, are simply not working. And if we continue to ignore this we will continue to see the external manifestations of these internal issues spreading.

There is of course no quick fix. Not to anything of such importance and complexity as the human condition.

However, we can begin to acknowledge the value and importance of that which is within us; the heart, mind, soul and spirit. These need to be proactively taken care of, preferably in a preventative way. And when it is not possible to prevent certain experiences, as it so often isn’t, we need to cultivate a new willingness and receptivity to the need to address and invest in these areas.

We need to understand that this is not weakness but wisdom.

The stiff upper lip served us well during the war (I imagine) but it is not serving us particularly well now. As a way of being it is simply adding to the already large backlog of unaddressed internal issues.

It is time to accept that the stiff upper lip has become a hindrance rather than a help.

We need to recognise the value of our insides and begin to treat them accordingly.

On a Societal level, it is too late to be preventative. We are fighting fires without sufficient water to do so. Which doesn’t mean we should not attempt to do what we can. Collective efforts make a difference.

And, I believe, the God who is so often overlooked, is very much wanting and able to help if only we will learn to ask and to collaborate with Him and each other.

But on an individual level, we do not need to passively wait until our internal issues have manifested so destructively that they have hindered our ability to function (crisis) before we begin to give them the attention and support they need and deserve.

We need to look after our insides.

Which means that we need to learn how to re-engage with our own humanity, especially that of our demonised emotions.

Far from making us weak, when used in conjunction with our capacity to think as well as our spirituality, these emotions hold the key to our health, our progress and our experience of being fully alive.

And, just as I needed to engage with the appropriate expertise of those qualified to address my bathroom issues, sometimes us humans need to engage with the expertise of those qualified to assist us with our internal issues.

I spend my days sitting with individuals for whom I have the utmost respect for being willing to ‘do the work’ of dealing with the internal stuff. It’s uncomfortable, painful and costly, all against a backdrop of a Society urging them to ‘sweep it under the carpet and stop causing themselves unnecessary pain’. I respect the courage and honesty of these people and it is a very great privilege to work with them and to witness their lives begin to change for the better.

And I don’t see why my clients should be the only ones to enjoy the life changing benefits of engaging with therapy. So when I struggle, as I have recently with grief, I too engage with a therapist. I cannot offer to others something that I am unwilling to acknowledge a need for or accept help with myself.

Insides matter.

Mine.

Yours.

Ours.

They may remain largely invisible but when denied or ignored for too long, they manifest externally by restricting our capacity to function as we might.

None of us get all this stuff right and the fact is that it is not easy being a broken, messed up human that is vulnerable to getting hurt by life. The alternative is to shut down and exist and endure instead of living.

But if we tend to, rather than deny our internal issues, we will in the long run save ourselves from a lot of unnecessary pain and hassle.

Problems rarely disappear of their own accord. We need to participate in addressing our internal issues. And where appropriate, engage help to do so.

It is always worth the pain of the process when you come through to the other side.

As I finally have with my bathroom.

Following four months without a useable shower, my bathroom is now fully functioning again. The shower was stripped out, all tiles removed, internal walls redone and the whole bathroom redecorated and fitted with a new shower. Yes there was disruption and hassle. But, I can now say, that my bathroom looks even better than it did originally!

It does cost to deal with internal issues.

But it costs more not to.

What do you need to deal with and what support do you need to enlist to do so?

Turkish Delights …

Before my recent holiday to Turkey I had always found Turkish Delight to be rather revolting. However, I discovered that real Turkish, Turkish Delight is actually very tasty. At least in my opinion! A case of the authentic Turkish variety being vastly superior to our English adaptation.

Aside from the official Turkish Delight, I also got to sample many of the other delights that Turkey has to offer.

Having arrived around 3.30am, we decided to treat our tired selves to the Turkish Bath experience on that first night.

Wow!

It was wonderfully delicious.

First off we spent five minutes in the sauna to open our pores before being taken in to a Hammam – a public bathing space, hence unfortunately I could not take any photo’s. But it was a large room with a huge marble, circular, tiled ‘bath’ area where we each laid around the outskirts with our own pillows. From here we could look up to the impressively decorated ceiling.

On here, our own designated ‘bather’ came and poured wonderfully warm water all over us, before coating us in a salt based product which with the aid of an exfoliating cloth, was used to remove our dead skin. This was the only part that was a little uncomfortable. But it was quickly followed by a soothing foam bath where these large contraptions were waved over us covering us in the foam. Lastly we were rinsed off with more water before having our hair washed. It was not unlike being a giant baby being bathed on a huge marble slab!

Very nice!

As we got up, we were towelled down before being taken to a massage room where we were treated to a Balinese massage with oils. To end the experience we were given a gold face mask to remove our dead facial skin.

The whole experience started and ended with Turkish Apple tea and Turkish Delight.

It was utter indulgence throughout, the likes of which I could totally get used to! A huge thumbs up! I would totally recommend it for anyone who enjoys being pampered!

A great way to relax in to the holiday.

We stayed in a Hotel within the resort village of Oludeniz in the Mugla Province on the South West coast. The resort was nestled within a bay overlooked by the Babadag Mountain. It was beautiful, with a five minute walk down through the shops, to the Belcekiz beach. There was enough on hand to be interesting without being a huge, overcrowded affair.

Perfect!

I took great pleasure in starting each morning with a forty five minute swim in the Hotel’s fabulous pool which I mostly had entirely to myself, with the exception of a local meower that took to sitting on the side watching me. I was also able to take in the view of the surrounding mountains accompanied by a colourful assortment of paragliders. A truly great way to wake up and start any day for someone like me who loves the water and the mountains.

Breakfast was a colourful, fresh fruit filled affair enjoyed overlooking the pool and being overlooked by the mountains. Top notch.

In fact, all of the meals were good. I always experience it to be such a treat to have an array of fresh foods all prepared and displayed for my sampling. As much as I love experimenting with new recipes, I equally love to be spared the shopping, preparing, cooking and cleaning up process! And as I eat as much with my eyes as my belly, I appreciated the colours of the food and the backdrop of mountains.

One of the first things I noticed was the mass of paragliders adorning the skies. This is something I had wanted to experience ever since I read about it last year within a Paulo Coelho fiction book. It was on offer in Slovenia where I went last year but I wasn’t in the space to do it. Yet here in Oludeniz, it was so accessible it would have been rude not to take advantage of the opportunity so I immediately bit the bullet and booked up.

When the day arrived for my scheduled flight, the wind was up too much to allow it to go ahead (and I don’t mean mine).

So I had to wait another day and try again. I went off feeling excited and apprehensive. It took around forty five minutes in a bus to get to the top of the mountains. This was super hairy. The roads had sheer drops down the mountains which did absolutely nothing to help my nerves. I took to uttering repeat panic prayers. As if God is deaf and didn’t hear my first cry for protection!

Anyway, we finally reached the top which was a building site with some portaloo’s positioned right on the edge. Most portaloo’s don’t offer a relaxing experience but these took unpleasant to a new ‘high’. Visions of them falling backwards down the cliffs didn’t help me to use them! At times like these, my vivid imagination doesn’t feel to be quite the gift it usually is!

Anyway, finally, I was ready. Sort of. In a quivering knee’s kind of a way. There was a white concrete area sloping down in to absolutely nothing with the tree clad mountains underneath. Once harnessed to my pilot and paraglider I was asked to walk down this slope. Gulp. Was I mad? My legs didn’t particularly want to comply with this request. It’s not exactly natural is it? But with the help of two guys either side of me I was able to slowly make my way on to and down the slope. I’d like to say I was super courageous and excited but I would be blatantly lying! I was totally terrified! The fact that taking the paraglider down felt a decidedly safer option than the bus, spurred me on. That and more repeat, panic prayers that went something like this, ‘HELP ME, HELP ME, HELP ME GOD!!! Repeated multiple times as if God suffers from amnesia.

Somehow, within an instant we were in the air soaring high above the mountains. My mind was caught between sheer terror at the unnaturalness of the situation and the desire to relax in to the experience. My pilot said to me, ‘we are flying Jo, up within the geothermals (what?) where the eagles soar.’ ‘Relax Jo’, he encouraged me. ‘I’m trying’, I replied in a shaky voice. I mean, it was spectacular but it took some time to relax past the terror in to the joy of it.

But eventually once I realised there was no longer any need to be afraid of falling because we were actually flying, I could relax and enjoy the stunning scenery below.

WOW, WOW, WOW.

It was magical!

Not unlike the skydive I did in NZ over a decade ago. Although the ascent up was definitely more terrifying for this. Although this was from 6500 ft where the sky dive was from 15000ft! A tad higher! But this was one of the highest places in the world from which to do paragliding.

It was quite something. And I’m glad I did it. And even gladder I survived it!

Later that day, we took a sunset jeep safari. This involved a trip to a local village called Kaya where we learned about the history of the Greek and Turkish people having their happy cohabiting arrangement broken by the Government. Yet all these hundred of years later their houses still remain, derelict but partially intact. The Greeks were apparently excellent stone makers, to which these sturdy houses make testament.

Next up we were tearing around the mountain roads with no apparent concern for the sheer drops surrounding us. My imagination worked against me once more and I had to enjoy the views with my eyes closed! My friend enquired, ‘are you going to be sick Jo?’. No, I replied I just need to keep my head down, my eyes closed and make intermittent whimpering sounds!! But seriously, I felt safer paragliding than I did in that jeep!! God must have thought my prayer record from earlier in the day had got stuck on repeat.

Eventually we arrived at the end of the road as high as it was possible to go. I relished the view whilst trying to forget we still had to survive the journey back down!

After some more hairy driving, we arrived at our dinner destination with our table just a few feet from the sea. To accompany our traditional Turkish feast of bread, chicken, meat and salad, was a Turkish hen party complete with Turkish dancing.

During the stunning sunset, the guy opposite us on the table took off to propose to his lady, to which she agreed! A beautiful moment to share with them! So romantic!

The next day we took off for our sailing trip on a beautiful, rather posh boat. We were taken to four different bays where we could enjoy the stunning turquoise if rather chilly sea waters.

More traditional Turkish food followed by a very non Turkish Magnum ice cream! Yum. Just as I was beginning to need a break from the hot sun beating down upon the top deck, the guys came and put the sails up which rather conveniently covered me with their welcome shade. From here I could simply sit back and enjoy the view and the breeze.

Fantabulous!

This was the last of our trips so we spent the rest of our time in Turkey relaxing and enjoying the pool, food and Hotel entertainment including a night of traditional Turkish dancing. Which obviously we joined in and had a go at. No idea what I was doing but I enjoyed it regardless!

Got talking to a Turkish man also on his holidays. A guy who took two years out to train as a Radiographer’s technician. I respect anyone who is willing to invest in doing the work of making changes in their life. We enjoyed some interesting if language limited conversations via his translation app!

Two of his sayings which I particularly liked were:

You can make friends wherever you go, so long as you are sincere.

Everything is beautiful in God’s great timing.

Anyway, the holiday drew to a close all too quickly as all good things do.

But it was fun packed and I loved it.

Fun, rest and play are SO rejuvenating.

And Turkey was indeed full of delights!