Emotional Health - Life is calling

Birthday Bonanza …

Last week saw me celebrating my birthday. As in, all week!

You see, I’m all too aware that life can throw us parcels of crap at any given moment and I’m not talking the kind of crap that results from our own poor choices. I’m talking about the sort that we can neither predict nor prevent.

And so, in the face of such a fact of life, I make it my business to celebrate at every opportunity to do so.

Birthdays of course, are right up there.

Not everyone I know and love made it through to their birthday this year so as far as I am concerned, for those of us who did, it’s worth celebrating.

Our next year of life is not guaranteed.

For any of us.

So celebrate now I say.

Although I must say that I do not understand the thinking that I hear so many express that says ‘life is short’, in explanation as to why they indulge in (usually excessive), life shortening activity’s. But that’s another story.

Where was I?

Oh yes, the birthday.

Birthdays are for milking.

I’ve had some spectacular ones along the way.

My 30th in Hobart, Tazmania with special friends at a beautiful restaurant before going a little way up Mount Wellington to admire the lights of the city below.

The stunning crop terrace mountains of China were to host my 31st with an amazing lady who has become a trusted friend. The group I was travelling with even chipped in and bought me a gift. As we were travelling off the beaten track at the time, there were no gift shops or even anything in the vicinity with English on. Hence when we all sat down to watch their DVD gift, there was much laughter when it transpired to be Chinese porn. Don’t ask!

Then there was my 40th at Lake Maggiore in Italy where in addition to lots of lovely food (obvs), there was a spectacular light show, live music and of course crazy dancing in the streets. At least by me. All followed by a cracking party by my fabulous Church family.

Spoiled or what over the years.

Last year was a quiet one as we wrestled with the reality of my spiritual mother’s cancer diagnosis.

This year has been another extended fun and food filled affair.

I know that for many, when something sad or traumatic has happened around a birthday or Christmas, it can ruin these times for future years. As far as I am concerned, it gives more reason to rewrite the experience with something life and joy filled.

Which is exactly what I did this year helped by some seriously fantabulous peops.

Monday was the day to start milking it. I kicked off with an afternoon tea with my lovely sister. Another extreme foodie!

This was immediately followed by flowers and a good catch up with a friend over coffee.

Tuesdays’ offerings started with a long overdue haircut. Seriously, it’s the only time my hair ever looks clean and brushed!

Next, my lovely spiritual father took me to the wonderful Wimpole. I’d never been despite hearing rave reviews from all and sundry.

Simply stunning grounds.

It was like something out of a film. Although of course, scenes from films are from places like this!

Wowsers huh.

Returned home via a country pub for a cheeky cheesecake and cuppa.

Got back in time to prepare for a very good friend coming over to stay. Great as ever to see her and catch up.

On my actual birthday we went walking through the fields near my home. As we chatted on a bridge overlooking the stream with the solo swan, said swan suddenly spread its wings and flew under the bridge before gliding over to where we were.

Spectacular!!

What a gift. You can’t buy moments like those!

We continued our walk, returning home with a bounty of blackberries and apples. More muffin material.

Lunchtime saw us visiting one of my favourite places for a spot of grub.

I then saw my friend off before visiting my neighbour Ju for a brew.

That night I went to my favourite country pub for dinner with a long standing, very amazeballs friend who had even snuck over to the venue earlier to put up some sparkly balloons! The company, the ambience and of course the nosh itself, did not disappoint. And I left feeling very content and totally stuffed!

After all that eating, I went for a reparative run Thursday morning! Before relaxing with a reflexology session.

Proper lush.

Thursday saw me somehow squashing in yet another meal out with another friend.

So much food.

My poor stomach!

Following a walk up some hills, across the fields and by some springs, I opted for a super foods salad during Friday’s pub lunch with a new friend.

This before another short walk where I encountered a wooden swing. Obviously, I couldn’t resist!

What a week.

And it wasn’t over!

Saturday saw me spoiled with a super colourful, flavoursome, original BBQ spread put on by a super special lady and her hubster. Dessert was homemade scones with cream and homemade jam!!

Proper!

By Saturday night, I felt full, exhausted, spoiled and in need of some serious solitude!

Birthday’s are special.

At least in my opinion.

And I will continue to milk them for as long as I am given them.

How do you respond to a birthday?

Your own or others?

Environment Matters …

Now, this is not a green piece or a bit about Green Peace.

It’s about our surroundings.

The places in which we reside; our homes/family’s (biological or spiritual)/workplaces/peers/spouses/other groups.
Because these are the places that influence us.

For good or for bad.

That inspire or limit.

Encourage or oppress.

And so we need to examine them carefully.

I got to thinking about this because last week I combined two of my favourite things; being outside with watching a film. Actually, make that four things to include being with good people and indulging in tasty eats and drinks. Or is that five.

Anyway, I’m digressing.

The film in question was The Greatest Showman. I’m not usually in to musicals but even my equally non-musical film loving friends recommended it. So when the opportunity arose to see it amongst the beautiful lavender fields, I jumped at the chance.

I do so love to be under the great vastness of the sky in what I call, big sky territory. It was a beautiful spot and the film did not disappoint.

There was a line that stayed with me which went something like, ‘you are an example of what it is not to be restricted by your station in life’. This was directed at the star of the show who came from humble beginnings. I realise that most of us love a yarn about a person who makes good after a difficult start but this film also illustrated the very real risk of losing yourself and your values in the process. Especially if your motives move from being the most authentic version of yourself or from utilising your gifts in ways that benefit others, in to just being accepted by others irrespective of the personal cost.

Lessons that were learned in time for this guy.

But, I couldn’t help but think about the line about moving beyond your station. It is so true that any one of us can rise, not to stardom necessarily, but certainly to being who we truly are and are able to become.

But here is the crucial thing.

Whilst none of us get to choose the finances or the flavour of the family that we are born in to, we ALL get to choose what to do and who to do it with beyond our beginnings.

And we would do well to choose wisely and review regularly.

Whilst we are all programmed to be in relationship and within community, we must each discern when our desire for acceptance and belonging within a said community start to interfere and restrict our desire for an authentic and growing expression of ourselves.

Not every environment is conducive to our growth.

Some environments may be perfect for the growth of some but this does not automatically mean that it is so for all.
For each of us are uniquely designed with our own set of giftings and strengths (and weaknesses). But to realise our respective potential will require a different set of surroundings for us all.

Not forgetting that some of us are more sensitive to our surroundings.

We need look no further than to nature to see the truth of this.

My stunning Azalea’s open up in the presence of sunshine only to close up again when it clouds over.

Unlike many other flowers that remain outwardly unchanged whether in sunshine or cloud.

The simple facts are that not every family, friend or workplace actually allows the environment or the space for us to grow beyond the limitations and restrictions that life and even some of these people, may place upon us.

We each have a unique identity and purpose but in order to continue fulfilling these, we must take responsibility for who and what we allow to influence us for growth or stagnation.

Growth requires the right environment as well as time and space.

To return to the Greatest Showman, his environment was one of love and encouragement from his wife and daughters. They believed in him even when he struggled to believe in himself. They shared his vision and inspired him with their own ideas and imagination. And together they made that vision a reality. A process whose knock on effect was to create an environment for others to fulfil their own potential too.

What is equally important to note is that this star was also motivated at times by his desire to disprove his wife’s privileged parents who believed themselves entitled to look down upon him. And this was where he slipped up and almost lost everything of any genuine importance. For when he allowed himself to be motivated by the desire to prove others wrong, he lost sight of his original vision and his own values. A warning that we would all do well to heed.

It may well be satisfying to prove wrong those who do not see us as we are or as we are capable of becoming, yet to use this as motivation will only lead us away from our most authentic selves and paths.

Most of us are not destined for stardom, but we all have a personalised destiny awaiting our fulfilment. And in order to do so, we need the right environment to facilitate it.

There will always be those who get us and cheer us on in life. Just as there will always be those who don’t. All we get to choose is who we will be and who will we allow in to our inner circle. When others doubt us or our motives, we don’t need to agree with them. And if those closest to us do not understand us, it may be time for an environmental check up. For those people and places that we allow close to us will influence our expression of ourselves and our dreams.

Not everything, everyone or every place is conducive to our growth.

But when in the right place with the right people at the right time, beautiful things are possible.

For every single one of us.

And when that happens, it cannot fail to influence and inspire others.

We can each be outstandingly original at being our truest most authentic selves, when we take the time to seek out the right environmental support to do so.

Just look at nature.

Each flower is different from the next but equal in originality.

Who is it in your life that gets, encourages and believes in you?

Because you need those people, just like you need to be that person to others.

Environment matters.

Check yours.

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?

A Father For All …

Father’s Day is upon us again.

But what exactly does the term Father mean?

Is it the man biologically responsible for providing the necessary ingredient?

Or the man/men who actually do life with you?

On the understanding that they are not always one and the same.

Perhaps they are both.

Over the years I’ve redefined my understanding of the term ‘father’ numerous times. Yet it does not remain static. It continues to change, evolve and grow.

Especially since encountering the Father of all Father’s; God Almighty Himself.

As I look back to my pre-knowing-God days I remember one of my early experiences of what felt like a gift from God the Father.

It was many, many, many years ago back in the days when I was still caught in the life destroying grip of alcoholism. It was a Saturday morning in the summer back when I lived next door to my sister. We shared a lawn mower and on this particular morning, accompanied by a monster sized hangover and aided by a large pig butty, I still found myself unable to face the task of tackling my lawn. My sister did hers and I sat and watched wondering how I was going to muster the motivation to do mine.

Anyway, as I sat wishing that my lawn would cut itself, there was a knock at my sister’s door. When she failed to return promptly from answering it my curiosity got the better of me and I dragged myself up and round to her front door to have a nose.

I was met by the sight of two young Mormon men dressed in suits enquiring as to whether there was anything they could do for my sister. Ding. Having recognised what looked to be an amazing opportunity, the words, ‘oh yes, you can mow my lawn for me’ were out of my mouth before I could gather any sense of decorum or English reserve. (Thank God).

These guys smiled enthusiastically, whipped off their jackets and asked to get stuck in. I was of course only too delighted to get them started!

Once they’d mowed my back lawn they asked if there was anything else they could do, to which I kindly replied, ‘well, if you’re going to do a job, you may as well do it properly and do the front as well’, thinking they would tell me where to go. But no, they were genuinely keen to oblige.

By this point I was totally amazed and humbled by their attitude. So much so that I made us all some lunch and then these young guys talked about their family back home in the USA and showed us pictures of them. It was a thoroughly enjoyable affair!

Now, to clarify, I don’t really know what a Mormon is or what any of the various denominations are. Neither do I really care. Maybe I should but all that is important to me is that there is one God and He loves and wants to be in relationship with us all.

Anyway, after this experience, I remarked to my sister, ‘you see, there really must be a God’, to which she replied, ‘typical that would happen to you and you’d get out of moving your lawn’!!! (I have a concrete lawn these days!)

But for me, this was an experience I would look back upon after officially meeting God personally a few years later whilst living in NZ. I could see that God is indeed a Father of such love and such grace. I had a totally self-inflicted hangover that Saturday morning and I certainly did not deserve for anyone to come along and do my chores for me and yet these young men did so with such genuine joy that it caused me to stop and think about what kind of a God could cause a person to do something so selfless and to seemingly get such pleasure from doing so.

I realise now that this experience that was so undeserved had God written all over it. And for that I was grateful then and I’m grateful now, for the numerous ways that God reveals Himself. Usually I suspect without us even noticing much less thanking Him. (Often cos we’re too busy blaming him for something or other).

This was just a great example of the Father’s love. We don’t deserve Him yet He pursues, loves and helps us regardless.

Which is not to say that He doesn’t also allow us to feel the consequences of our actions. Or even to allow terrible things to happen to us. But His grace, love and help remain on offer to help us through no matter what.

As I reflect upon this Father’s Day, I realise that since meeting God the Father, I’ve been fortunate enough to experience other men who have shown me a similar Fatherly love and grace. And whilst each of these key men have been vastly different, they have each shown me that grace and love cannot be separated. (A bit like tea and cake).

These men have helped me with practical stuff, prayed for me when I’ve needed it (read always!), hugged me when I’ve cried and celebrated with me when things have gone well. They are the father’s that are there for me and do life with me. They each show me something of the Father’s heart. And I am eternally grateful to them all. (Special thanks to the long suffering Johnboy!).

But anyway, back to this Father’s day.

It’s not an easy day for many people for all manner of reasons. And if it is a day that brings pain, it’s important to acknowledge that. Not sweep it under the carpet, deny or dismiss it, belittle or stiff upper lip it back in to the body to come out later as illness. It just needs to be recognised, respected and responded to with love and compassion. Because that is the only way that we can continue to live with our hearts open. And if they’re not open, are we really living?

At the same time, it is important to acknowledge that whatever experiences each of us have had or failed to have from our own father’s, there is a Father who is available to us all. One that is worthy to be celebrated and praised this Father’s Day.

He probably will have bought men to show you about a father’s love even if those men or that man is not biologically connected to you. But whether He has or whether you have noticed or recognised this or not, God Himself will be reaching out to you this Father’s day.

Whether you know or believe in Him, he knows and believes in each and every one of us. He longs to father us all. To be in relationship with us. To have us spend time with Him, to recognise His hand and the many ways and people through whom He reaches out to us. To know His voice and to hear what He wants to speak in to our lives to encourage and help us to navigate our way through all the twists and turns. To know that no matter how things feel, we are never alone for He is always with and for us, patiently waiting for us to acknowledge and call upon Him. To love us with such grace and compassion in spite of ourselves. To be available and interested 24/7. To know us so intimately as to always know what and who we need. To strengthen and comfort us along the way that we can keep going even when things are super tough and we feel like giving up. To welcome and comfort us when we’ve gone off the rails but then realise that He still awaits our return with open embrace.

Ultimately this Father loves us with a love like no other. One that never gives up, abandons, abuses, neglects, forgets, ignores or rejects. Even when we do that to Him.

There are truly none like Him.

And … He doesn’t get ill or die on us.

Do you know this ultimate Father?

Maybe this Father’s Day it is time to recognise the Father’s call in to relationship with Him.

For me, this Father’s Day I will be praising and thanking my God and Father for never giving up on me, for pursuing me relentlessly even though I wouldn’t acknowledge Him until I was on the other side of the world, and for loving me through the most painful times and my most horrible behaviours. Ultimately, for loving all of me; the good, the bad and the really ugly. And I’ll be thanking Him for the men in my life who represent Him to me. As well as praying for those who don’t!

And throughout the year in between this Father’s Day and the next, whenever I’m having a right old crappy time, I’ll try to remind myself ‘Jo, do you remember who your Father is?!’.

Should I forget, I’m fortunate enough to have friend’s that remind me.

I don’t know what your experience of or as a father is.

But I know that there is a Father who longs to be in relationship with EVERY SINGLE one of his children.

Will you accept His invitation this Father’s Day?

Mastering our Inner Martha …

During a meeting with a group of women this week, the subject of guilt arose.

That potentially pervasive stealer of life.

There was a subsequent discussion around how attempts to just hang out with Jesus often get sabotaged or diverted by the voice of guilt.

We realised that the voice of guilt often arises from our inner Martha.

And it goes something like this, ‘you can’t just sit around being with Jesus when there is work to be done. You should be doing… the washing up/housework/shopping/enter whatever you think you should be doing’.
Basically, you should be doing something.

Doing rather than being.

The mantra of our quality of life stealing culture.

As we discussed this, it became clear that we can all struggle at times to master our inner Martha sufficiently to allow our inner Mary to find expression through time with Jesus.

According to the gospel of Luke, Mary favoured simply being in the presence of Jesus, unlike Martha who was fretting over preparing the meal and resentful that Mary wasn’t helping.

Personally, I feel for Martha in this scenario because let’s face it, if no one prepared the meal because both Martha and Mary chose to hang out with Jesus, I feel certain there would have been some disgruntlement from someone at the point at which the hunger arose.

Or perhaps it’s just me that becomes grumpy when hungry as I am someone who absolutely loves good food.

But maybe the point is more that the spiritual food that only Jesus can provide, feeds our heart, soul and spirit with a sense of life and energy that inspires and enables us to find our place and purpose within the world.

In comparison, as marvellously satisfying as the act of devouring a good meal can be, it doesn’t typically leave me feeling passionately fired up to seek the life that is only found within the purposes of God.

In fact, sometimes a good feeding session leaves me feeling incapable of anything other than an afternoon appointment with the duvet.

Whilst there is nothing wrong with this and we certainly do need physical food to maintain our physical body’s, this food is unable to nourish those other parts of our humanity which are ultimately responsible for our beliefs and values and thus our motivation and desire for actively participating in daily life.

I guess what I am saying is that Jesus reaches the parts of us that not even a gloriously good feast, can reach. (Doesn’t that sound like the words of an old beer advert?)

Anyway, we do not need to get shot of Martha but we do need to appreciate that the role of Mary in hanging out with Jesus, really is the more important one. (Even for a foodie like me).

But, we do need Martha.

Let’s face it, she comes in to her own when we need to get all those hated jobs around the house done. Personally, I’m always a little suspicious of a woman who says she enjoys housework. The results are satisfying for sure but to enjoy this as a way of spending time when there are so many other inspiring options available?

Before you judge me, I say this as someone who spent years cleaning other people’s houses to help put myself through uni. Admittedly I had some incredible conversations with Jesus whilst cleaning but as I know I can converse with Him in so many other ways, cleaning is not my top choice!

But anyway, we all need our Martha’s.

Because in reality, can we really spend all day every day hanging out with Jesus?

I think not.

Which is not to say that we cannot converse with Jesus throughout the day. I think the trick is to be in such a close relationship with Jesus that He literally jumps off the page of His word to really walk and work and talk with us throughout the day.

I think we know and accept that we cannot spend all day every day simply being in the presence of Jesus.

But do we equally know and accept that we should no more be spending all of our time addressing Martha’s incessant demands that we be doing?

We need balance.

We need both.

We need integration.

If more in the favour of Mary.

Without which, when Martha stifles Mary in to submission with her guilt inducing narrative, both lose out. Martha resents the martyrdom of her actions and Mary feels judged and suppressed. No one wins.

Unfortunately, our culture subtly and not so subtly backs and reinforces the Martha approach to life. It values doing, producing and creating, tangible, measurable things.

Our culture is not pro being still, stopping or even slowing down.

Although in fairness, the need to ‘be’ is beginning to fight back via meditation, mindfulness and various other similar practices.

Culture has influenced us to become so ingrained with the need to constantly do that sometimes our attempts to spend time being, especially being with Jesus, can be intercepted without us even realising.

It is time for our inner Mary to fight back!

Martha wants the external physical stuff to be dealt with.

Mary wants the internal soul and spirit stuff to be dealt with.

Both matter.

But time invested on the internal leads to a natural outworking within the external.

In other words, the Mary who has been nourished through quality time with Jesus can tackle her ‘Martha to do list’ with way more enthusiasm and grace than the Mary who has been denied time with her Master.

Because, there really is nothing like the joy of simply lingering in the presence of the Lord Almighty. And as someone who has tried a lot of what this world has to offer, I do mean, nothing.

After all, He is the creator of the universe, the ultimate artist especially evident at this time of year and the highest form of wisdom and wit.

He offers a one to one mentoring service like no other. He teaches us in the ways He has made us to naturally and most effectively learn. He knows us intimately in a way that no other human really can. And even more miraculously, He loves us regardless!

He is the counsellor above all counsellor’s and knows exactly what and who we need when we’re struggling. He’s totally trustworthy. Not to spare us from all trouble but to help us to overcome. He’s the ultimate friend and confidante who genuinely wants us to do well and to fulfil His plans. He’s the best source of help available and the only one on call 24/7.

I could go on and on and on…. I wont.

But the bottom line is that spending time with the Almighty and I’m talking here, leisurely, unrushed, unhurried time, is the most inspiring, enlivening, exciting way that any of us can ever invest any of our time.

And like so many of the very best experiences that life has to offer, there are nearly always a series of repeated reasons/excuses/distractions to stop us from doing so. (See the Fun Thief)

Our inner Martha comes in to this category for all too often she ambushes us with the dialogue of Captain Sensible in that she constantly attempts to guilt trip us in to focusing and expending our energy upon all those endless grown up jobs awaiting our attention.

As if hanging out with Jesus is a waste of our time.

But seriously, what price can we put on an encounter with the Almighty?

We may not see what we gain or be able to show it to others in concrete ways but the experience of a God encounter cannot be underestimated.

A connection with the source of life itself can energise and uplift us in ways that are hard to articulate.

It needs to be felt to be known.

And is of course, available and on offer to all.

Martha can be a total kill joy and stealer of pleasure, quick to remind us of what we haven’t done or what we should be doing.

Yet when Mary is allowed to do what she is made to do she becomes better equipped to fulfil her Martha duties with more ease and less resentment.

So go ahead, tell your Martha to stand down and let your Mary arise.

It is time for a shift.

For when the two work in unity, both and thus all, really do benefit!

Beware the Fun Thief … ..

Recently I’ve noticed a particular theme which grabs my attention from time to time.

As I listen to people talk about the various trials and tribulations of life, it becomes apparent that when consumed by these life challenges, one of the first things to get squeezed out of the schedule is … having fun.

It seems to start so subtly that it operates off the radar thus stealing the opportunities for fun without even being noticed. Sometimes it’s years before people realise that they have unwittingly allowed themselves to lose or to stop investing time in all the very things that bring them joy.

There is a further pattern to the things that appear to get stolen which is that they are usually creative in nature. For some it will be painting or sketching or for others something musical or baking and so the list goes on and on.

Fun takes different forms for all.

But we all need fun.

But it’s as if at some point within adulthood, these activities get thrown in the back room, often to never be seen again. Once out of sight, they get forgotten about. As if these are things that we simply grow out of or cease to need.

I think quite the opposite is true for once we enter the world of adulting with all its responsibility and seriousness, I think we need the fun, physical and playful stuff even more than ever! If only to balance out the heaviness of all the grown up stuff.

Yet it is as if play is written off as only being the domain of those officially known as ‘children’.

What nonsense!

Why should the little people get all the fun?

Don’t we need it even more?!

It is almost like there is an unwritten rule that folk unwittingly sign up to that banishes all fun in favour of responsibility, as if the two cannot be interwoven.

No wonder so many adults are bitter and resentful about their lot.

Fun, play and creativity are the very aspects of life that nourish us sufficiently to do all the big stuff.

They provide us with a source of joy.

We need them.

And we let them go at our peril.

I became aware that I had allowed myself to lose some of my playtime during the seriousness of my many years of studying and training. I felt like my creative juices had ceased to flow. Blocked up by an imbalance of work.

And so I dedicated a year to reclaiming the gift of fun.

Big time.

I enrolled the help of an excellent book called The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, which guided me through the very important yet oh so fun business of reclaiming some of my favourite things; downtime, play and underpinning all … creativity.

I rediscovered old joys like baking cakes (and of course eating them), writing, dancing and reading but I’ve also discovered new ones like solo trips to the coast, singing and pilates.

Fun matters.

It’s good for our health and wellbeing.

Seriously.

No matter what stresses or strains we are in the midst of experiencing, the need for fun not only remains but actually increases in the face of challenges. Thus it is down to us to proactively invest in making time to indulge in those things that bring us joy.

Laughter, fun and play really are medicine.

Soul medicine.

Whilst applying these principles at a barn dance last Saturday night, I got in to a conversation with a teacher who was discussing how schools are cutting physical education and the arts from the curriculum. What a shortsighted and misguided way to attempt to increase and improve academia.

What a tragedy.

And a false economy.

Unless we want to produce a generation of robots taught/programmed to produce ‘results’ no matter the cost, or the loss of soul.

When did we stop recognising the value of fully rounded individuals who know how in the words of the old Mars advert, to ‘work, rest and play’.

The ‘work, work, work’ philosophy doesn’t work.

Not for anyone, anywhere, at anytime.

Except as a life shortening and quality of life removing activity.

In order to function fully, us humans need physical activity, play, downtime and creativity.

Whilst these are being further and further squeezed out, is it any wonder we’re becoming a nation of zombies sat transfixed by the latest series on the TV/Ipad/Technology.

Life really is too short and too full of unexpected challenges for us to allow the fun parts to be stolen.

Now is the time to reclaim our ability to play, to be active, to create and overall … to have FUN!

The Nourishment of Nature …

How I love a Bank Holiday.

And this last one offered me two of my favourite gifts: time and sunshine.

With no sign of tradition, it was quite the treat to spend so much time out in the awe inspiring beauty of nature all without being wet or cold!

Us English folk certainly have the gift of appreciation when it comes to something as rare as a sunny Bank Holiday! With the exception of course, of a little moaning that it’s too hot!

Anyway, last weekend offered three whole glorious days of sun drenched playtime.

Healing balm to my heart and soul.

Following a morning appointment with some home made pancakes on the patio, I set off on Saturday to explore the changing scenery of the fields around my home. I was so NOT disappointed.

I was greeted by a stunning mass of vibrant yellow set against a deep blue sky. Such a delight to see and walk amongst. A sumptuous sense stimulator! What a privilege to walk freely within it all.

When I eventually tired of all those stunning green, blue and yellow scenes, I returned to my favourite spot on a little wooden jetty over a small river. From here I could dip my toes in the cooling waters and enjoy the backdrop of birdsong.

An utter banquet for the soul.

I find nature SO nourishing

After my toe dipping session, I spent the rest of the day relaxing amidst it all. Firstly within my neighbour’s garden (with said neighbour!) and lastly, an evening spent under the vast blue sky above my own garden.

Slowing down to notice and receive the nourishment of nature is so healing.

And more was to come for Sunday saw me on the receiving end of an unexpected BBQ invite. Result! One enjoyed in the midst of an utterly beautiful garden. Not only did I fill myself with sumptuous barbequed meaty treats but I also got to have my fill of the flowers scattered around the rather vast garden. All accompanied by some excellent conversation and a lot of laughter. Dee-licious all round.

Yet more was in store for me on Monday within a bluebell clad Hitchwood. Such a delight to walk amongst such vast and natural beauty. A case of a walk within WowTown for wherever I lay my feet or eyes there was yet more to be devoured. Try as I might to capture it all on camera, no matter which direction I stepped in, there was always more on offer.

How I love days like these.

As tempting as it is to use our free time ‘to get stuff done’, it’s an utter joy to practice letting that stuff wait and simply enjoying the basic gift of nature in the now. Especially when it’s all so enriched by the presence of the sun casting its colour deepening glow upon it all.

It was a wonderful weekend well spent in the company of good people, indulging in top notch food and all within the healing, nourishing wonders of God’s great playground.

What a luxury to have free entry to all this, anytime!

And here we are on the verge of yet another weekend surrounded by the resilient glory of the blooms of nature. All of which serve to remind us that no matter what comes our way, new life, growth and beauty are awaiting to burst forth. Such hope.

How I love to feast on nature.

The Grief Wave …

Grief isn’t a nice, tidy, or by any means short process that comes with any kind of manual or end date.

Nor is it something we can control.

It is unique and unpredictable.

But, over time we can learn to recognise and surrender to it rather than resist and prolong it. Not that it ever ends but more that the loss becomes integrated and the absence adjusted to, even when it still hurts.

Ultimately we have to learn to trust the grieving process.

Because when that fresh wave of grief hits, it hits.

You know about it.

There can be no denial of its arrival.

At least not for long.

In fact, we’d do well to notice it coming.

I saw mine on the horizon. Or rather I felt it. The tears that came at inappropriate moments. The stuffing them back down with sugar or salt laden rubbish, the extended and more frequent need for an afternoon nap, the struggle to smile in the presence of so much stifled sadness.

The signs were all there.

I simply refused to read them.

It took a meeting with my best friend and fellow psychotherapist to point out the unwanted obvious.

This was another wave of grief.

I’d come out of the fog of the first few months and people had commented on how much better I looked. I felt better too.

So when the grief began to hit again, I tried to resist it by carrying on as ‘normal’. I liked feeling ‘better’. And I didn’t want to feel sad again. I’ve already had too much sadness for one lifetime.

I resisted, denied, refused and fought this new wave of grief.

I didn’t want it to take me over.

I wasn’t trusting it to do its work of transformation or to deliver me to where I need to be.

All this despite knowing that something as important as the process of grief cannot be ignored. At least not for any real length of time before your body starts protesting via the language of illness. For some, even hospitalisation.

But, like most humans, I also like to buy in to all those palatable ideas about how having the right thoughts, beliefs, or pills, means we don’t have to be ‘so weak’ (read human) as to experience unwanted feelings. I get it. I want this to be true as much as the next person. And if swallowing these ideas came without the consequences it would certainly be a lot easier and less painful.

And so I allowed myself to indulge in a little delusion, despite my training, despite my knowledge, despite the reality that stifled sadness (or any other unwanted emotion) is a great stealer of smiles and obstructer of the internal well of joy.

I know this stuff but like most humans I still sometimes opt for the comfort of denial. No matter how shallow or short lived.

As a friend of mine says, denial is a very long river.

And for a while, I just wanted to swim in it. I didn’t want to get out to face much less engage with the reality that ‘the only cure for grief, is grieving’. (I nicked that expression off some one else but can’t remember who – possibly Kubler Ross).

But anyway …

Grief cannot be fast tracked, thought or prayed away.

Grief has to be grieved.

No quick fix.

No short cut.

No way out, over or above.

Just the long and at times lonely, walk through.

Sometimes it hits so hard, we come to a standstill. One which reminds us afresh of the lost one. Of the pain of having loved that person and no longer having them here in our midst in the way that we used to.

It hurts.

All I can do is ride it out.

And cut myself some slack. Re-check my schedule, re-assess what is really necessary right now and what can wait. Reduce my expectations. Listen to my body and respect its messages.

Ultimately, I can practice a little extra self-care. Experiment with when to push and when to let up. Trial and error. Learning along the way. Making adjustments where necessary.

After all, what really is the rush for anything? Do I have anything if I don’t have my health, if I refuse to stop and allow myself to heal?

Nothing is more important than health.

So I’m prioritising mine right now.

Not ministry, not the housework and not my finances. Because actually, without my health, what use are any of these?

I’m also letting my people know that I’m struggling. That I need a little extra encouragement right now. Because when my world becomes dark with grief, it’s the light of my people that breaks through and reminds me to keep trusting until my own light can shine again.

As I reflect upon my grieving process, I am reminded of how grieving has worked in my life previously, having experienced rather a lot of it. Not always related to death but always to loss.

What I recall is that it goes in cycles. I feel consumed by the grief for a period, then I experience a respite which feels wonderful in comparison, then another round of grief hits, feeling worse than the last because it’s now in contrast to feeling good and so the cycles repeat. Except that each time, the period of grieving becomes less severe and the period of respite becomes longer until the two eventually amalgamate in to a new norm.

It’s a process. One that I’m well versed in. So I know I can trust it to do its work of healing and transformation.

Yet I still need reminding when I’m in its midst for I can lose sight of the purpose of the pain.

This is the pain of healing.

Just like when a physical part of the body is healing and growing in strength again. It too can bring pain as part of the process.

I refuse to bypass this process.

I will not settle for Society’s short sighted offer of a superficial, intellect only healing. Tempting as it may be. I will not force my body to communicate through illness. When it starts warning me through the coldsore, sore throat, headache, nauseau or the really big warning sign, lack of appetite, I stop. I acknowledge my body’s message and respond accordingly.

Which means giving myself permission to do nothing. To simply be. To listen to the birds, to walk amongst God’s beautiful creation, to admire the buds of new life, to watch the sun’s rays bounce off the stillness of the river. I take these moments to just be still and allow myself to reconnect to the joy and privilege of simply being alive. Even when it hurts.

Because at the end of the day, I want a heart level healing. Or more realistically, a healthy heart level adjustment to the absence of the one who made such a difference to my world and my life.

Gosh I miss her.

Her smile, her expressions, her sense of fun and mischief, her laughter, her seeing, getting and reaching me with her love.

A mother’s love.

I want her back.

Now.

I don’t want to accept that she’s not coming back.

And I don’t want to wait until I get to Heaven to see her again.

Yet that’s the price I signed up to pay when I allowed her in to my heart; to mother me, to be a friend, a confidante, an encourager, a supporter, a stabiliser, a security provider, a champion of my dreams, a trusted one to share the day to day with, one to laugh with, cry with, share meals and pray with.

I signed up for this whether I consciously chose to or not. I signed up for the reality that when I allow myself to love someone, I must also accept that I may lose them.

It’s a non-negotiable part of the deal.

The possibility of losing love is part of the package of enjoying the love in the first place.

It’s just how it is. Sometimes we lose the people we love.

And the subsequent loss brings a painful grieving process with it.

It’s the price we pay for loving.

And I wouldn’t change it.

So instead of forcing my sadness deep within assisted by an onslaught of crisps and cake, I’m making a renewed commitment to myself to make time to grieve. Time to allow my tears to come forth, my sadness to be released. Secure in the knowledge that I will come through this with my heart still intact. I refuse to separate or cut off from my sadness or reduce myself to being half hearted. I will not settle for that.

I am choosing to remain full hearted. Even when it hurts to do so. Because this is the only way that I can remain fully connected and fully alive. And for however long I am gifted with the opportunity to live, I want to remain fully connected, fully feeling and fully living. Even now. Because I know that I will come through. I’ll be different as a result but I’ll still be fully alive.

And this business of staying fully alive is absolutely vital to me. Because I don’t believe for a nano second that my Jesus endured what he did on that cross for me to lamely settle for some little half hearted life where I’m shut off from everything that I don’t want to feel. Where in effect, I shut down the centre of who I am, the very lifeblood of my existence; my heart and soul. I just won’t do that.

And subsequently, I am trusting my Jesus to walk me through this. Every step of it. However long it takes. Whether I’m skipping, dancing or dragging myself. Because I believe that Jesus will help me to walk through my grief without relinquishing my ability to remain connected or whole. Or rather as whole as it is possible to be whilst this side of heaven.

It’s been a big wave. And it’s not done yet. But as I allow myself to engage more fully with my pain, I notice my joy for life, begin to filter back through. And somehow it’s sharper, clearer, more 3D, richer and fuller.

Grief hurts … but grief also heals.

It’s a paradox.

But one that it’s worthwhile engaging with.

At least if one wishes to continue living whilst living…