As I sit on the sofa with my badger set, watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, I realise that Hagrid, the gamekeeper, has been with me all day as Hargrid the ‘mindkeeper’.

 

He has been instrumental with his kind and caring, compassionate nature against the bullying and threatening voices of Dobby, Pamela and the ‘parent’.

 

He was there with his formidable presence, blocking the view of any wagging fingers as I lay reading my book this morning, as I went for a coffee and walk with my friend, had lunch with another and ate a big bowl of couscous for supper.

 

He was there with his magic umbrella, in the quiet moments and spaces when Pamela would typically appear, flashing a lightning bolt or covering her with the invisibility cloak.

 

He was there with his calm voice of reason and loyalty when Dobby danced around my feet, asking if I really wanted to hold the Big Man’s hand, kiss him, do his washing and organise birthday treats.

 

And just as in this fourth chapter of the series, as he shows Harry glimpses of his future, what he will be up against in the games, he is helping me see glimpses of my future, if I open my eyes, my heart and to his compassion; and to have the patience and belief that everything will be better than ok.

 

I have a lot of favourite books and I have read a lot of good books.  A really stand out book, however, was Susan Jeffer’s ‘Feal the Fear and do it anyway.’  Pretty revolutionary for the girl who has always played it safe, straight and mitigated every ounce of risk out of a decision.  It helped me distinguish between the good fear and the ‘bad’ fear and helped me undo my blue collar shirt and tie up my entrepreneurial converse laces.

 

Right now, I feel that I am less about feeling the fear, but ‘feeling the pain, and doing it anyway’.  Having slowly acknowledged I have been wearing a cloak of numbness, and with the first of the ‘big moves’ complete and our tenants (or are they now our landlords?  I am lost in the legal proceedings right now..) have left the building for a couple of weeks, I have slowly undone the buttons, inched it off my shoulders and let it fall.

 

This has left me feeling totally vulnerable and exposed.

 

I know I need to feel the pain, lean into it, go through it and out to the other side.

 

She was right, Brene.  You can’t just numb one emotion.  You numb them all.  When you unnumb, feelings come back, the good with the bad.

 

Today, I felt the beautiful calmness and gratitude as I walked along the beautiful riverside tracks, smelling the fresh garlic, listening to the river and let laughter with my dearest friend bring a smile to my lips and eyes as we sat in the sun and drank from tumblers full of ice.

 

Today, I felt pain.  A knife wielding pain to my gut and heart but we talked it through as the sun set and laughed at the cows creeping up behind us, part curiosity and part fear of us.  And then they ‘felt the pain’ of the new electric fence….

 

And ran away!

 

 

My final question today in my session, was “Am I the only one who has this many voices in their head?  Or am I going mad?”

 

Her initial, wry, light hearted answer was “and who was that asking?  Dobby?”  Followed by, ‘No, you are not the only one.  Not in the slightest.”

 

I first became aware of the incredibly enlightening and surprising fact that we do have different voices or personas in our head when I read ‘The Chimp Paradox’ several years ago.  I didn’t really fully understand it until it was explained to me in far more simplistic terms when I started a series of sessions in professional coaching after I had left my very structured, pre-determined, established career and started to work more entrepreneurially and creatively.  My coach introduced me to my ‘sabboteur’ and my ‘cheerleader’ voices and helped me make sense of it by giving them personas.  For some reason, Dobby the house elf became my saboteur and Snow White my cheerleader.

 

Today, I discovered a few more have joined my mind gang.

 

Dobby is still there, dancing around my feet, hiding behind my calves like a small child, questioning me at every turn ‘are you sure…..?’ expecting a justification in response to his warning.  He is my protector, the one who has the important role and power to keep me safe and but the potentially damaging voice to hold me back, preventing me from realising everything I want to in life. While he can make me feel safe, he can also make me feel small and silly, unsure and indecisive.  All I can do to quieten this voice is to listen and acknowledge and move on.

 

My ‘Pushy Parent’ is a new one.  A cartoon-like bubble floating above my head with an androgynous face and a pointy, chastising or chivvying finger.  I think this one must have appeared around the same time as #breakingbadhabits.  Sometimes it is motivational and encouraging, but mostly it is derogatory, loudly opinionated and incredibly judgemental, always telling me I am doing it wrong, lazy, incompetent and could be doing better.  The voice of ‘you should be over this by now’.  This loud voice pops in and out of visibility and when it appears, usually while I am doing something for myself;  or being unproductive or eating something that isn’t entirely wholesome and has the ability to make me feel like a guilty child, makes me feel disgust for myself and worthless.  I know this voice has good intentions, just like Dobby, to keep me moving forwards, improving and growing, but this is probably the hardest voice to ignore and is particularly vocal at the moment.

 

Then there is Pamela.  In her kinky knee-high patent boots, goading me, taunting me, showing me all those photos again, flinging them in to the forefront of my consciousness.  She isn’t appearing as frequently as she used to.  And I physically turn her off.  When I am feeling good, it is a quick flick of the wrist and fling over my shoulder.  When I am tired, she is relentless, disgusting, jealous, greedy, needy, cheap and childish and brings out the same feelings in me.  I can only think that her role is to protect me by reminding me to be alert.  Or perhaps to remind me to be grateful for so much and so close I came or could still come to losing it?  I am not sure on that one…

 

Snow White is strangely quiet and absent these days.  My original cheerleader.  She was the biggest opponent to Dobby’s negativity, with her positivity and swirling happiness and tuneful, joyful songs.  She helped me see the good in everyone and everything, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, choosing to see the good only.  And I wonder whether she is hiding in shame, feeling the blame is all hers;  her fault for silencing Dobby’s questioning intuition when he was right all along.  Or maybe she knows that dancing and singing in my head is not what I need right now;  it is too soon to feel happy and joyful, and she is biding her time.

 

As we looked at these 4 voices on paper, my therapist helped me realise that there is one voice, a very important voice for me right now, missing.  With Snow in the shadows, there is a lot of negative noise and would explain my feeling of lowness and depression.

 

And so we are back to compassion.  And we worked on what that voice would sound like and how it would make me feel.  The voice would be calm and friendly and make me feel safe and worthy.  The voice has to be strong enough to stand up to the Pushy Parent, calm enough to deal with nervous Dobby and someone to protect me from Pamela, overwhelm her and keep her out of my head.

 

As we talked about this voice, it took shape in the form of Hagrid.  Quite possibly because the boys are on a Harry Potter box set frenzy.  But he is perfect.  He is formidable yet soft, sensitive and kind.  He is loyal, the master of protection and will always have my back because he loves me.

 

I felt Hagrid’s power almost immediately.  I felt calmer knowing he was there.  And no one made a noise as I spent the rest of the day deep in a fictional novel, eating a bagel smothered in butter and sweet, sweet strawberry jam.

 

5 voices in my head.  I wonder which one is me?  Or is there a 6^th?

 

 

A house of cards….

 

A house of cards in a pyramid.  Like the ones we used to build when we were young, in bored evenings or rainy weekends at school.

 

Apparently, one appeared to my Reiki master last week, by my feet.

 

Just one of the many things that appeared around me, but I just haven’t had the time to research it all.

 

But the house of cards struck me today.  Because if you take off those top two cards, the house of cards typically comes falling down…

 

And perhaps, I don’t need to research that one as it feels like my future, the one we have been planning for, is the house of cards and it is all about to come crashing down around us.

 

Am I strong enough or patient enough to rebuild it back up again?

 

Do I have the strength of character to see this as a potential new start again, and see it again as a way to rebuild something new, change direction again?

 

Maybe this time Australia is on the cards?

 

Or maybe, just maybe do we just play it sooooo steady, without breathing remove the roof cards, so so gently that it all stays standing strong?

 

Right now, I am beyond caring.  I have sunk half a bottle of wine and going to bed.  Buying houses in this country is an emotional torture!!

 

Danielle Laporte looked me straight in the eye today and said ‘what if you considered, right now, not wanting to change who you are and how you are.  No striving to change.’

 

What if you said to yourself, “I am not broken, I am not flawed, I don’t need to be fixed.  I need to be celebrated, honoured.  I deserve to be loved. And that has to start with me.”

 

Oh how liberating!   How liberating to feel that you don’t have to constantly be working hard to achieve in life and career and even letting go of trying to be a better person.  And just celebrate where and who you are right now.

 

She said that when she let go of being the natural over achiever in her career and trying to win the ‘spiritual brownie points’ (being good enough, enlightened enough, cleansed enough etc), she became a more friendly person, especially to herself.

 

Maybe I need to give it a go?  I have been trying to let go of the past and the pain… but each time I do, it just comes back to bite me … and perhaps that is why I have slowly become numb.

 

So how about I just let my sh*t go?  Let my ambition and drive go.  Let my thirst for the answers and knowledge and live with who I am now, not the person I want to be or wish I were.

 

While I have been zoning out recently, doing my ‘homework’ on self compassion and practicing friendliness towards myself, I consistently get a very clear image in my head.  It is me.  Tiny.  Curled up in the foetal position.  This version of me, is inside me.  I am not sure if I / she is inside my head or in my gut…  but she is tiny and small, so tiny, so fragile.

 

And it dawned on me today as I was listening to Danielle, that the reason why the grief for my Mumbo has returned and is being mixed in with the sorrow I feel for myself right now, is that she would have been the one person who would have climbed into that position with me and curled herself around me and said, ‘of course you are in pain, of course you are still hurt, of course…’ rather than the harsh words I keep saying to myself ‘you should be over this by now.’

 

I know she would do that for me, to me, as it is exactly what I do when Tom hurts himself, or Willy is upset.  I curl my long body around their vulnerable frames and stroke Willy’s hair or Tom’s back, sooth them with my words or gentle questions.  Hold them tight until they are ready to face the world again.

 

I know I have to do that for myself.  I have to step in to her shoes and do it for me, do it for her.  There is no one else.

 

Danielle says this is when the medicine begins to work.  When you feel at your worst, you think you are your biggest loser, but you still love yourself regardless.  The preaching and motivating stops and you appreciate where you are at.

 

God, I hope it works.  I should be over this by now. (!)

 

I usually find great comfort in a christening service.  But today, I wasn’t feeling it.  Am I even questioning my faith, along with love, friendship and loyalty?

 

Or is it just part of this numbing process that I seem to have been walling myself in with?  Living so much in the moment, so that I don’t feel anything..

 

So that I don’t feel the bubbling excitement of the future.…

 

So that I don’t feel the fear of the unknown and uncertainty that is surrounding all the balls we are juggling in the air….

 

So that I don’t feel the pain of difficult memories I can’t let go of, feel the pain of broken trust and faith and belief….

 

Is that where the correlation lies?

 

Or is it that I am just exhausted from running up a metaphorical mountain, overcoming a seemingly impossible cliff face?  And now that I am at the top of the cliff face, it is actually the last walk up that frightens me the most and so I don’t want to face it.

 

I am saying all the right things, doing all the right things but I don’t feel the usual light happiness, sparkle and joy that I usually feel.

 

She was right – Brene – you can’t selectively numb.  I need to be brave enough to unnumb… to feel the inevitable pain, but also so that I can feel the love and happiness to heal it.

 

On the subject of love, while there is the peachy kind (which I am still too scared to sample), I felt other kinds of love today. 2 in particular.
The love for the house the Mortimer family have been custodians of for over 4 decades. The love for all the memories made in the old stone walls and flag stone floors as we hand it over to the next custodians to love and care for it. The love gained and the love lost as we lay on the carpet where the bed in our room once stood, the bed I crept down the corridor into after all the lights were all out and the snoring started; the bed I lay in as we lost our first child; the bed we tucked up our little boys for the first nights away from home. 
And the love for a child. A love so incredibly strong for someone so fragile, you would do anything to protect it, keep it safe and while and perfect.
And as I was thinking those words, ironing shirts, one of those fragile, precious beings came in with that same strained, silent, trying-to-brave look.
And here I am, with emergency snacks, several hours ahead of me with my precious son. I keep telling him, if he wants a few hours of quality alone time, he doesn’t need to break a bone!
***
Post script. 

No bones broken or crushed by the 100 year old lawn mower falling on a hand. Just bruising, swelling and instructions for elevation and pain control.
My Tom. My first little egg. The one I want to wrap in cotton wool but know I can’t. I know he has to crack and Break and bruise. Injuries and experience give us the scars of life that provide wisdom. He will be a wise one this egg for the way he throws himself into life. And the more he breaks, the stronger he grows back; the more he tests his wings, the higher he will soar.

What is love?  This has been the question on my mind today.  Strange thing to think about when there is a such a flurry of activity going on around me.

 

I can explain what it feels to not feel love. When you are used to feeling it and it goes missing, it feels empty.  It feels hollow and un-whole.  It feels like you are desperately searching for something to fill that hole.  It feels like you would do anything to get that feeling of wholeness back… like cooking daily omelettes, waving goodbye as part of you leaves for work in London, work trips, sailing courses with a smile on your face to try and mask the fact that your heart has turned in to a sand timer and the sand is almost all gone.

 

I can explain what it feels like to feel love again.  It’s an unusual way to describe it, but the image came to me as I was trying to think how it felt.  It is like the first bite of the first over-ripe peach of the summer;  sticky and sweet with the strange, yet familiar unusualness of the furry skin against your tongue, and an excited lurch to catch the delicious juice as it explodes, not wanting to catch a drop;  a sigh as you appreciate the sweetness and relief at the recognition that there is a whole peach left to go…..

 

I have my peach.  It is ready and ripe and ready to sink my teeth into ….

 

And yet I can’t quite allow myself to do it.  I am fearful that instead of the delightful honey taste, I will bite in to something sour, find a worm or bruise….and I will have to throw it away, spit it out and be put off peaches for life.

 

How long do I leave it?  To fester and shrivel?  Or do I just take one big bite and get on with it?  Better to know now, rather than to always wonder.  Why miss out if it is amazing?

 

I pick it up a lot and contemplate it.  Look all the way round it.  Searching for clues on the outside to determine the certainty that it is good on the inside.

 

Part of my homework was to listen to Brene Brown again on vulnerability.  And it was interesting to hear it and apply her learnings to what I know now, and what I didn’t know the previous time I listened and contemplated ‘the big V’.

 

As part of her research she says that the people who felt the most love and belonging had the biggest sense of worthiness.  Not only that but another of their characteristics was that they embraced vulnerability in a way that they would do something without guarantee, for example, they would say ‘I love you’ without any guarantee the feeling, sentiment and words would be reciprocated.

 

I suppose that means I need to bite the damn peach and not worry what happens, not care if it isn’t perfect love; sweet, juicy and sticky on the inside, furry and soft on the outside.

 

The other piece that connected with me today was when she said ‘you cannot selectively numb emotions’.  And therefore, I guess, until I am ready to ‘unnumb’ the feelings of anger, pain, sadness… I am going to numb love, joy, happiness too.  And that is why I am in this overwhelming sad treacly mess.

 

I can’t bite the peach until I am ‘unnumbed’.  But yet I am afraid of ‘unnumbing’ and the more afraid I get, the more I want to be certain about the peach, about love.

 

But I know that unnumbing is the right thing to do.  I want my heart to be full, overflowing and beating to a loud and proud beat.

 

Looking at Ashfield House, it is empty. Soulless.  Only the echoes of memories floating in a distant hazey memory.  Sad.

 

And Ashfield Paddock is full of happy noises, overflowing with everything possible, people, things, furniture, animals, music, conversation, light and craziness.

 

I know which one I want to live in.  Perhaps with all this overflowing-ness and love in one place, I will become less numb and be able to bite into the peach and lurch to catch the juice.

 

 

 

As I was walking down stairs, my arms full with a load for the wash, greeting Grandpa who was bringing a barrow load of paraphernalia to put in my, now their, office and waving at the removal men swarming around my / now their yard…   a thought or a little voice spoke up in my head.

‘What if this is all a grand illusion, a big master plan to distract me from what is really going on?  Maybe all these words, these grand actions and exciting plans are to throw me off the scent?’

I discussed this thought with my therapist this morning, as the thought brought on that clutch of my heart, the sinking of my stomach and for the imagination of my mind to work in overdrive. I have a good imagination, but a heart that could never have dreamt up what really was going on.  So my imagination plays out the worst possible scenarios.

She has learnt that it helps me to draw it all out on paper and explain what is going on with my head, my heart, my emotions.  When I can see it drawn out, when I find myself in an anxious state, I can recognize where I am and then accept it and move on and use the right tools to break the state and the cycle.

It all starts with a trigger.  Todays’ trigger, we work out, is ‘the move’.

This trigger then leads to my feeling of powerlessness, lack of control and uncertainty over so many moving parts and juggling balls in the air;  the uncertainty around the Big Man still lingering because of my heightened state of alert and mistrust;  the uncertainty around how the boys are feeling about the move, or if there is something else going on;  the uncertainty of our move to our dream home and whether it is all ‘real’; the uncertainty of how it will be living with my in-laws and how long that will be for….

 

And then of course, there is the uncertainty of what I really want?  I love our life, love our family and love us together as part of all that.  But I totally frightened myself yesterday after some trigger or other, and a little voice asked me, ‘ … but if there were no boys, no family, would you be doing this?….’  My answer was I am 98% sure this is what I would do, what I want now, my gut instinct says so.  But the other voice said – ‘same here and we went with your odds and look what happened!’.

 

All of this uncertainty puts me on heightened alert.  Why?  Because I want to keep us all safe.  I want to save us all from going through all this pain, anquish, upset again.

 

Part of me, the personally developed side of me, well-read side of me argues – but just let it go!  This is an adventure.  And if anything is going on, then I will find out exactly how I did last time.. .by not looking, and the Universe providing me with the information in unexpected and innocent moments.

 

But I am not there yet.  And I am told, apparently, that is ok.  Whether I believe that or not – the ‘driver’ in me wanting to be there already.

 

As much as I want to be, as much as I practice being there… I am not there yet, not fully and not all the time at any least.  All this uncertainty and heightened alert causes my emotions to run riot;  anxiety, fear, upset, anger, worthlessness, total crappy feelings has both an emotional and physical effect.

 

And my mind heads off in two directions; fight or flight.

 

The fight part of me says that these emotions are a sign of weakness, so I chastise myself and tell myself to get over it, stay and fight the feelings…. Only causing more anxiety, more anger, more fear and so on.

 

The flight part of me makes my imagination run wild, making me want to run!  And running away also only causes more uncertainty, thus more anxiety, more anger, more fear and so on,

 

 

So what is the answer?

 

Back to self-compassion.

 

And how do I do that when I am in in a mental battle to decide between fight or flight?  Who to listen to in my head – which 98% certain?

 

Breathing.  Slow and soothing breathing to slow down my heart rate, reduce the andrenalin and all the other hormones racing around my body and therefore turn my historic brain off from the fight or flight mode and slow down the triggers to my amygdala brain, turning down the dial of my emotional state.  Bring myself back to the moment.  And just breath.  And again.

 

So I have homework.

 

To re-read my blog that I wrote on Shame and Vulnerability following Brene Brown’s talks on the same.  And to look at the breathing techniques on the compassionatemind website.

 

And above all, remind myself that it is ok to be feeling crappy.

 

And it is ok to admit that this is tough for me.

 

It is ok to admit that I am ‘swimming through treacle’;  the words my therapist used but I like, because that is how it feels in my mind and heart;  searching through the thick, sticky treacle to find the positive thoughts and feelings, pulling them out, loving them so much and so proud of them, despite their treacle tails of despair.

 

There is a rare peace this evening in the house at around 6.30pm, when usually there is the carnage of hyped up fed little men, coinciding with hungry animals and the early arrival of the Big Man and I am not rushing to clear up plates, feed the animals, prepare supper, empty the dishwasher or load the washing machine.

 

I am basking in this peace because it is and will be a very big rarity as we embark on the next 30 day adventure.

 

It is our last night as 4 under one roof, until recently only 3, and overnight we are doubling to 6, a dog and a cat.  The ‘Big Move’ is about to kick off as the Grandparents (also the ‘in-laws) are moving in and there is a period of crossover before we move on and out.

 

To say I am nervous is an understatement.  It was only a short while ago, maybe as little as 5 weeks ago, I was struggling to be in the same room for any great length of time, under their watchful, concerned, troubled gazes.  I am more at ease now but worry what will happen when the next wave of grief and darkness hits and I need my solitude, my space in order to let it pass by without being stirred up in to a tornado.

 

But in this moment, does it matter?  Everyone is out.  Granny is shopping for tea, Grandpa has taken the boys out for a ride and the Big Man is at the gym.  So the truth could be that I will get my space and more of it.

 

As I reflect and let the worry go, I think of my day, in particular I am reminded of the words from a podcast I was listening to, which was interesting.

 

The guest speaker was talking about goals and visions and how while they were important, they hadn’t been as helpful to him as intention, creativity and flow.  Goals and visions had been too prescriptive and alongside the words, ‘I am going to’ meant he came from a place of lack;  “I am going to I am going to be happy, I am going to sell 1 million books, I am going to fill 2000 seats..” only implied he didn’t have it, that he was only on day 1 of a long journey and excited for something that was going to happen in the future.

 

He turned this around and started thinking with intent, continued to do what he was enjoying doing, and being open to what came to him.  He believes you need to get to the point that you are so happy with what you are doing right now, connecting with yourself now so that you don’t need anything else.  When you don’t need anything, you become free and open to opportunities that may lead you to far greater, more creative, more enjoyable, happier times.

 

I also thought his comments on vision boards were interesting, especially as a fan of vision boards personally and seen them help the manifestation process.  However, he says they also show your old story of lack and doubt, coming from your head and a script, rather than from your heart.    His vision boards are all about falling in love with the not knowing what is going to happen, and just showing up, choosing what you love to do and what feels good in the moment.

 

 

“I love not knowing!  And let everything unfold in its own way and it is perfect!”

 

With that in mind, I am living in the moment, enjoying the peace and quiet to reflect on his interview, what is happening right now in the peace and quiet what I did today, which was the product of creative flow.

 

What I was asked to do today was totally out of my comfort zone, totally new and random but came from a place of love for the people, a project and my sense of fun.