I need to take a leaf out of my own advice book and not worry, ignore the many fears I have about following my own dream to write a book;  every day I receive more signs telling me to start by my fears of it not being best seller and a complete flop, and embarrassment so much that people will laugh at me, because it has all been said before, that it will upset people rather than inspire… that it will all end up being a big waste of effort.

 

Instead, I need to listen to my inner curiosity and ask ‘I wonder what would happen if I wrote a book?’ And do it.

 

When I think like that, words seem to just fly out of my head and on to a page.  And this has happened several times… but is it the start?  Or is it the middle?  Or is it the end?  Or simple just a passage that needs weaving in….

 

As I sat in the blazing sun, drinking my flat white, watching the boys and men dance around on the waves of the estuary, this is what came tumbling out.

 

 

 

My mind sees my day, my life and choices from two angles, my cheerleader and my saboteur: from the perspective of Snow White or of Dobby;  Dobby my friendly and over protective sabboteur who was for a period of time transformed into a Parisienne stripper wearing only cut out knee high boots and a black satin basque and nothing else… only for a short period of time but was also the most cruel and ugliest of all saboteurs.

 

Perhaps she was my biggest catalyst for growth and change, identifying most what I needed to lean into, recognise, accept, endure and embrace in order to do the work to transform everything, including myself.  

 

I never thought the unknown lodger in the darkest park of my brain would be the one I held the hand of and brought with me. I had to prove to her, she was wrong.  Wrong about everything, me, him, us and especially herself.  I showed her so much of the good and true, the honest and the strong, that she faded to dust, just a handful remaining that the returning Dobby picked up and threw to the wind.

 

I welcome him, like an old returned friend. He is only and simply a manifestation of my fears. His purpose to keep me safe, not to demoralise me, destroy me of my self-esteem, taunt and feed me lies. Sometimes he may find himself in the desperately attention seeking knee high kinky boots or the pathetically needy satin basque …but we just laugh!  Me and the elf who is playing ‘house’ in my mind, heads thrown back, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

 

He still gently reminds me of my fears of the big life changes we are about to make, drawing my attention to them, only so I mitigate them or remind myself firmly, convincingly that I choose them. He is my protector.  She was narcissistic, taking advantage of my vulnerability, manipulative, cunning and mean and I could almost weep with relief that she is gone.  The experience taught me a lesson in understanding the saboteur and how there are many faces of the mind, and to be mindful therefore of which ones to listen to and which ones to recognize for their destructive nature and ones for their pastoral care and ones that give you courage, strength and empowerment.

 

I am immensely proud of Snow White, Dobby and myself. Battle scared. Exhausted. But ready to live.  We beat the evil queen in my head, who tried to rip out my heart, throw me to the curb and step over to replace me, just like she tried to take Dobby’s place.  I am reminded of a cookoo, who has no home for themselves, looking from the outside in with jealously and greed until it can move it.  But it never stays long, for it is not their home and never will be, forever unsatisfied.

 

 

And then real life brought my passage, my beginning or my end to a close.  Dobby quietly questioning what I had written, Snow White singing loudly as I skipped along the path with my little man to make a berry smoothie, drowning out the fear and reminding me stay strong in my curiosity.