Emotional Health - Life is calling

The Seaside Soul Massage

As I had almost two clear, work free days this week, I decided to take another trip to the coast.

Leaving straight from work on Monday evening, I arrived at my B & B in time for a cup of tea on the balcony. Here I savoured the feel of the cool evening air on my skin and the sound of the waves in the distance.

My soul began to breathe easy again.

Tuesday dawned cloudy and rough looking. Perfect full cooked breakfast weather. Such an utter indulgence to have your breakfast served to you. Lush-tastik.

Following a post breakfast period of horizontality I coaxed myself out in to the day. After a leisurely walk along the coast, I took up residence in a sea facing pub to savour a hot pot of tea whilst devouring the newspaper. The arrival of the lunch time crowd signalled time for my departure.

The wind was pretty biting so when I discovered a sheltered area from which to enjoy the warmth of the sun, the sound of the sea and the feel of the sand, I engaged in one of my favourite pastimes; watching the clouds do their thing.

Unfortunately the pot of tea I’d just had dictated that I moved on before I wanted to. But a short distance on I was delighted to discover a lifeless looking sea front cafe was actually open. And there was no one in it other than the owner. Perfect! More tea was consumed along with the luxury of unhurried reading.

As I was now nearing 4pm my stomach was making demands for more fuel.

A short walk in to town allowed me to source some fresh cod and chips which I devoured in a beautiful flower filled park. The wind was rather reducing my pleasure of feasting though.

So, when I caught myself buying a bag of 3 hot donuts I decided to return to the shelter of my balcony back at the accommodation. From here I savoured the donuts (yes all three) washed down with yes, more tea. Dee-licious.

I decided to take full advantage of the increase in daylight by taking another walk the other way up the coast. I was met with the most stunning of seaside sights. God never fails to leave me in awe of the beauty and wonder of His creation.

After this I returned to my balcony to sit and absorb the last of the evening sunshine. Glorious.

When Wednesday morning’s alarm sounded what is becoming an increasingly irritating noise, I resisted the temptation to roll over for an extra hours slumber. Instead I dragged myself out for a pre-breakfast run. The training for the half marathon isn’t going to happen whilst I sit around inhaling chips and donuts.

My reward was the delight of discovering it was a beautiful, blue skied, sunshine shimmering off the sea kind of a morning. What a stunningly fantabulous scene to be met with.

Back at my B & B I had time for another breakfast and a spot of writing on the balcony before checking out.

As the sun was twinkling enticingly over everything I took another very windy walk along the coast.

After which I was relieved to stumble upon another seafront cafe where I could enjoy some respite from the wind and sip a warming mug of tea.

And then it really was time to return to the car for my homeward journey.

How I love time out to nourish my soul.

And I don’t have to wait long for a proper stretch of time off.

The Grief Bomb

No sooner had I written my blog about Mother’s Day when an internal grief bomb exploded. Not exactly surprising.

Initially it appeared in sparks of severe irritation at every little thing that I was doing. Whilst I did stop to ask myself why I was so angry, I moved away from the question before finding any answer.

Instead, I threw myself into preparing for a weekend away where I was attending a training event on loss!

I felt smug and sensible when I got in to bed at 9.30pm in preparation for my 6.30am departure. Whilst I was probably asleep by 10.30pm, I awoke at 4.30am and remained awake. A fact that I felt decidedly unsmug about.

However, after a straight forward journey, I had time for a Costa coffee and a read of the newspaper before my course. What a treat.

The course venue was situated by a beautiful harbour where the blue skied sunshine made me temporarily wish I wasn’t committed to a day inside.

Anyway, the course was fascinating.

Whilst death and loss aren’t the most light hearted of subjects, I am a firm believer that the more we are able to engage with the reality of death, loss and endings, the more we are able to engage with the reality of living, love and new beginnings! And when my time for death comes, I certainly want to know that I have given and received as much of life’s opportunities as possible!

As I listened to some of the speakers talk about how we humans can process and work with our grief, I was reminded of my granddad. Having recently signed up to run a half marathon to raise funds for the hospice my spiritual mother benefitted from, I realised that my own granddad had also been in this hospice. On his last day, he waited until his family were gathered around him before he gave himself to death. In that respect it was a good death; he chose his moment, surrounded by those who loved him.

But in remembering this, I realised that although this happened over twenty years ago, I have not grieved properly. It was as if I had totally blocked his death and his life, despite him being such a significant and beloved part of my childhood.

As I attempted to hold my sadness down to focus on the course, I became more and more exhausted and irritable. It really is so exhausting suppressing emotion yet equally exhausting to engage with them!

By the time I left for my overnight seaside accommodation my eyes were stinging with fatigue. Although I managed a pot of tea and a slice of carrot cake on the pier, I had to go to bed and surrender to sleep straight after.

Whilst Sunday dawned with a bright blue sky and beautiful sunshine, my own temperament was quite different!

I loved sitting in the sea facing cafes enjoying my breakfast and newspapers but I could not stand the increasing presence of other people! I was holding in too much pain which was threatening to slip out in the form of general horribleness!

Fortunately for everyone in the vicinity, I managed to find a quiet place sheltered from the wind but in the sun, from which to devour my newspapers, coffee and sea view. Heavenly.

But of course, underneath my irritable horribleness was the raw pain of ungrieved, grief. And it was only once I arrived back home that I could allow this grief to pour forth once more. After which I felt decidedly lighter and less prone to snarling or spitting.

I remembered that I needed to be kind to myself (and others!) when the grief comes and so I took some time out of my day on Monday to simply be still in the sunshine of my garden.

I also let my key people know that I was in a painful space.

And by Tuesday, I felt more like a human being and less like a wounded animal and I could therefore resume my full responsibilities again.

The grief does of course continue.

But so does life.

All I get to choose is whether I will be kind to myself when I am hurting. My attempts to do so included a trip to a local garden centre where I enjoyed the feel of the sun on my skin, the sound of birdsong and the sight of the flowers. I was even joined by this cute little fella!

As I reflected on the ever changing weather this week; glorious warm sunshine on Monday and cold rain on Tuesday, I realised that this was in direct contrast to my ever changing emotions of misery on Monday followed by a renewed calm on Tuesday.

Like the weather, my emotions come and my emotions go and the more I accept the inevitability of this and ease up on myself accordingly, the more quickly they pass and the better it is for everyone involved!

As if to seal my experience, I saw a rainbow outside my house on Tuesday evening, reminding me that whilst the weather constantly changes as do my emotions, God remains my one true constant throughout both internal and external changes.

How very reassuring.

Mother’s Day

This is a day that can bring such joy and such sorrow.

As we approach it, I am able to recognise the change in my grief for the special lady who was very much a mother to me over an eight year period.

Whilst the first anniversary of her death was only a few short months ago, I am aware that something has shifted in my grief.

It was during my time in New Zealand whilst having a day on my own at the beach that I sensed her presence afresh.

I could see her big blue eyes smiling mischievously at me and remember her enthusiasm as she encouraged me with all that I do. I recalled how utterly thrilled she was for me when I stepped out in new areas to trial things that I am passionate about. I remembered how she would tell me with such excitement when she had heard something linked to the work I do. I could feel the force of her belief in me when she encouraged me to keep going and to keep trying new things.

In essence, I could experience her mighty love for me afresh.

I was reminded of the way she was with me; she saw me; good and bad, she gently manoeuvred around me when I was spiky, she walked with me through the worst years of my healing, loving me even when she didn’t understand, she bounced and she beamed when she saw me step out in meaningful areas and overall, she simply saw me, when others didn’t.

I thought back to how she was just there. When I needed to talk or to pray, to rant or rejoice, she was there at the end of the phone always ready to hear and to share in what I had to say.

She was there for me.

And she loved me.

In spite of myself.

She gave me the gift of unconditional love.

What greater gift is there?

And whilst writing these words brings fresh tears to my eyes, the grief has changed. When I feel the deep sadness at her physical absence, I no longer feel like I am in a well of grief that I cannot imagine ever finding my way through or out.

Instead, now when I cry, I see her beautiful smiling face and the love in her eyes and I know that she is telling me not only that I am doing ok and I am going to be ok, but also that I am going to continue finding my way to do all the things I believe in.

It is as if she is still here albeit in a different way as her love for me continues to live on within me, encouraging me every step of the way and spurring me on to keep stepping up and speaking out for all that I believe in.

I no longer feel lost in the pain.

I feel loved and supported by her through it and beyond.

In her last days of lucidity, she looked me in the eyes and told me, ‘Jo, you are going to do great things’.

Even in her last days she was still encouraging and loving all of us around her. In the face of her death, she continued to be as she was in her life; scattering her seeds of love and of life.

What a woman.

What a gift to me.

Her belief in me knew no bounds and though I would much rather she were still here in person, I now sense her presence, her comfort, her enthusiasm, her laughter, her playfulness, her kindness, her patience, her excitement, her belief in me and most of all, her love for me, still living within me, still encouraging me every step of the way.

Wow!

And, it wasn’t that she wasn’t with me last year, it was just that I was in too much pain over her physical death, to be able to access the internal wellspring of love that she had fed in to me over the years.

But now, whilst the tears still come, they also bring a smile about who she was and who she continues to be, to me.

I loved her and even more amazingly, she loved me!

A gift so generous and so profound that now it is my turn to pass that gift on to as many as I can in my lifetime. Whilst acknowledging that I will continue to mess up along the way! But I hope I will continue to learn and to apply all that I can about what it really is to love.

Is there more precious a gift than that of a mother’s love?

Or more painful a loss than absence of it?

This mother’s day, whilst I still mourn her absence, I will also rejoice in her ongoing love, presence and influence within my mind, heart, soul and life.

I will also rejoice in a recent meeting with my own mother following a long period of estrangement.

Mother’s day evokes all manner of emotions for us all. And all of these are worthy of our attention, compassion and love.

Be kind to yourself this Mother’s Day, whatever it evokes for you.

And where possible, celebrate those who have shown you a mother’s love, whether biological or otherwise, whether still with us or having gone on ahead.

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?