Less than a week into a month-long car rental agreement, a tiny stone hit the windscreen and an immediate twenty inch crack developed across the driver’s side. I sighed internally as I had rented and paid for excess insurance via a broker, which was the cheapest way of doing it, so I knew it wasn’t going to be a simple process.

I had to return the car and swap it for another, pay the rental company for a new windscreen and claim it back from the broker’s insurance. Then as I was driving to the rental company the satellite navigation sent me on a very convoluted route that took twice as long as the most direct one would have. Being unused to driving a manual transmission for many years now, I was getting stressed as the roads narrowed and twisted and the driving was quite taxing as I changed up and down gears.

I was thoroughly fed up and then I had the thought that perhaps this whole palaver had served a purpose. As I traverse through life I often find that the things that happen that seem annoying, frustrating, painful even, can turn out to have rather lovely silver linings.

In this case that became apparent as soon as I arrived at the rental company’s front desk. The rental assistant had been expecting me and asked whether I’d mind an automatic transmission; I melted with relief. Quite what the UK’s obsession is with manual gears I cannot fathom, but automatics are in the minority. Although I drove with a stick for seventeen years, I’ve since driven seventeen years in automatics, and I choose ease over active gear grinding any day.

The car I have been given now is so intuitive, smooth and easy to drive. Yes it would have been lovely to have had that as my rental from the outset, but perhaps I needed reminding of the luxuries I take for granted. Whatever the reason I certainly feel extremely grateful, particularly as I am taking my children on holiday with their family this week and have lots of hours of driving ahead of me.

As I look back on many of the circumstances of my life, whether as benign as this example, or more poignant – as in the troubled journey I had in eventually having children – I have found that life has its ebbs and flows. Having deliberately reflected on many of these scenarios in my life, I have developed an absolute faith that (regardless of whether it is clear to me in the moment) life always seems to be working out for me.

In the case of my children, they are pregnancies five and six. It was not a straight forward process, with blighted embryos each time prior, something the experts said would only happen once and couldn’t explain. Starting with the first pregnancy when I was 24 years old, it took until I was 38 before my first child was born. But I believe I have made a better mother (albeit it an often very tired one) for the wait.

I’m perhaps more grateful, more considered and more patient than I might otherwise have been, and I underwent a lot of personal growth and became steadier in many ways (financial, health and so forth) in the intervening years.

Where I find it most challenging to explain my faith that bad things turn out for the greater good is when it comes to people suffering and dying. No one wants to lose a loved one, nor see them suffer, but none the less it happens with regularity.

There is nothing as certain as death in our life, and it can be heartbreaking to hear people’s stories about those who they have lost or who are in pain. Certainly having experienced it myself several times, I don’t wish that on anyone. However, we all know the stories of people triumphing over adversity, and I do think that that philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche was onto something when he said “To live is to suffer. To survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.”

And as Linda Bray recounts “There is an ancient tribal proverb I once heard in India. It says that before we can see properly we must first shed tears to clear the way.” It did certainly occur to me growing up that in order to truly know something was good I had to experience what bad felt like.

Now in my fifties with many trials, tribulations and tragedies behind me, and no doubt many more ahead, I am grateful that life presents me with the whole spectrum of experiences from desolation to joy. It gives me a depth of understanding and compassion I would have otherwise lacked, and I generally accept the frustrating, painful and downright difficult experiences I have with more grace.

What about you? Where are the moments in your life that you can point to the silver linings, the times when the bad things turn out to be for the greater good?

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy What Do the People in Your Life Have to Teach (Good and Bad)?, How Would Life Be Different if You Believed in Yourself?, The Inevitable Pain of Returning to Love After Years of Abandoning Yourself and Leverage the Astonishing Power of Intuition, Flow and Kindness.  To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

A few years ago I recall writing about relationships as a series of moments, and this is very much how my life feels at present. On another continent, visiting friends and family I haven’t seen in many years, I’m experiencing some beautiful but fleeting reconnections.

I left my homeland seventeen years ago, and have been back only once in that time when I lost my mum, that was six years ago. I vowed then not to leave it so long, life had gotten in the way and I wanted my children to know this part of their roots and know the people that are part of their story.

We had planned to make this trip back in 2020 and, of course, with pandemic restrictions we – like most other people on the planet – had to put those plans on hold. So there has been a long period of anticipation, plans made and unmade. And so as plans long held in abeyance come to fruition I am revelling in the moments of reconnection.

Then, just like that, they are gone and a state of grief sets in. Why had I chosen to leave these wonderful people? I may not have had the greatest success in my life when it came to romantic relationships, but friends I tended to choose well, and I had already been blessed with a large and lovely family. Visiting with those I’ve stayed in touch with over the years is an absolute joy.

And it’s so deliciously easy, resuming conversations as though the intervening years hadn’t transpired, meeting children who have been born and grown, getting reacquainted and sharing our joys and woes. I miss these people, my people, and as many more long anticipated moments are coming and going I am pondering on the decisions I have made, the life I have in my new home.

I also miss the good friends and loved ones that live in that land, and whom and look forward to seeing again when I return. As I mused on this with my partner, who is one of those from whom I am apart right now, I was reflecting on how very lucky I am really to have all these wonderful people in my life.

He reminded me that life is just a series of moments, and the good thing is that we get to plan more. “Good or bad, life passes and things change” he said, I couldn’t agree more. What remains consistent is my love for those people in my life, whether I see them on a daily basis or not more than once in many years, my connection to and with them remains and – for that – I am grateful.

This land from which I hailed also remains. Once upon a time it was on my doorstep, with its entirety of consumer choices and long and rich history etched in places one can visit on rainy days. While I’m enjoying it now, I know it too will soon be half a world away once more. But then I think of the relative simplicity of the life to which I am returning, the one where I take my regular beach walks and commune with nature, and feel blessed to have all of this in my life.

What about you? Who are the people and places in your life who have meant so much to you? Are there moments of connection and reconnection you have planned so you can savour the anticipation and then reflect upon the richness afterwards? It really is an exercise in gratitude for me, taking time out of my normal routines, and it’s giving me a greater perspective and appreciation for all that I have in my life.

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Relationships are Just a Series of Moments – True Love Lies Within, Give Yourself the Gift of Presence to Relieve the Torture of Stress, What or Who Do You Call Home and Is It Your Happy Place? and An Open Letter to an Old Friend.  To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

We are now twelve thousand miles from the place I usually live, which has caused me to muse on the meaning of the word home. Technically I have returned to what could also be called home, which is the country I was born and brought up in, and lived for the first few decades of my life.

As we flew here I became acutely aware, as the journey progressed, of this planet we call home. In the years of COVID19 restrictions I was feeling decidedly cut off from other people and places, so it was a joy to traverse much of the planet from the air and - with the aid of the now readily available satellite communications – give regular updates to my loved ones about where on the planet we now were.

Starting in the Antipodes, we made our way over Indonesia, south eastern Asia, and India, where I have spent some time. Then we moved on into the Middle East before landing in the United Arab Emirates. The temperature at 5.30 in the morning was 33 degrees and, as the sun came up, I could only see the golden top of the Gevora Hotel; the Burj Khalifa was hidden in the fog.

I find it fascinating watching the maps on the plane that show which parts of the world the sun is illuminating at any point in time, and it gives me the sense that life on our planet is always in motion. As we headed over southern and eastern Europe and on into western Europe I could feel a sense of growing familiarity with the lands and places of my earlier years.

But is this physical perspective actually what I consider to be home? Part of it perhaps.

When overwhelmed, from the time she was able to talk, my eldest child has often said “I want to go home”.  This may sound sensible enough, but when she said it - more often than not – she already was at home in the sense of meaning “the house in which we live”.

As a parent, like any other, I learned to discern what my kids meant through non verbal means from their earliest days as babies. What I quickly ascertained was that she was referring to the much broader place from whence she came, pre physical existence, where human trials and tribulations are seen from a much lighter and broader perspective.

Regardless of beliefs on that topic, I think the more distance we have from anything, the more perspective we can gain without getting lost in the intensity of the moment. It truly is a case of seeing the wood from the trees. So is this more spiritual definition my true north when it comes to defining home?

Certainly there are times I too feel life would be easier if I could just let go of its cumbersome impossibility. Of course, I recognise that now as very apt. If I’m seeing something as impossible, it is. Letting go of unwieldy concerns for me is a process of gaining perspective upon them. I have to give myself permission to really sit down with my worst fears and hear them out before I can have space to entertain any other perspectives.

This, though, is a psychological struggle. Teal Swan says “For many of us the home (that we grew up in) was a mix of good feelings and bad feelings, but it’s the painful associations that we have with home that cause the problems in our love relationships.” That sense of home is driven by our biochemical and neurological wiring, which is where my worst fear often stem from, the outdated inner voices of a childhood long gone.

Psychologically and emotionally, after a deliberate personal growth journey, many of those earlier unhelpful inner voices that had continued to drive my subconscious narrative for far too long are now more at peace. This means that the people I attract and am attracted to, are not simply replays of old dynamics any longer. I am no longer subconsciously seeking a “do over” to try and evoke different outcomes to assuage any feelings of lack of worth, differences or belonging.

In essence, for the most part, I am no longer seeking permission to be me.

And that means that - in terms of those people, creatures and places that take up the majority of my time and attention on a daily basis – there is a far closer alignment to what I would call my starting point, my spiritual perspective. 

This is when I am truly at home and at peace, when my outer and inner worlds are all in harmony and alignment. As per the sign in my lounge, at last “Home is my haven, a happy place where I am supported and encouraged, a place where I am loved and can love”. I feel truly blessed now for the people and circumstances of my life.

What about you, what is your definition of home? And is it a happy one which provides you with a sense of being supported and encouraged? Where you can love and be loved for exactly who you truly are?

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy How to Make Home a Happy Place Where You Are Loved, Supported and Encouraged, Where Talent Meets Passion: Cherish Your Life as a Career? and Give Yourself the Gift of Presence to Relieve the Torture of Stress.  To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

I was reading an old post from Eryka Stanton this week and it inspired me to sense check how I am showing up in the world, am I really owning all of who I am?

Her particular post really resonates with me as the things she reminds me to own are very much me: to own that I am different, a deep feeler and thinker, tuned into a different frequency, sensing things others don’t, that I’m done having meaningless conversations and holding myself back.

She also reminded me that it is okay if my family doesn’t get me or if the world judges me, or if I want to dance barefoot upon the earth and gaze endlessly at the stars. One of her most powerful reminders is:

“You have come a long way to be who you are. So own it. Own all of it.”

As I’ve been packing and getting organised for a big oversees trip to visit friends and family at the opposite side of the world for the first time in six years, it’s interesting to reflect back upon who I was when I last visited.

I was a daughter losing her mother, a partner cast adrift and a mother keeping her young children close while also trying to support many others along the way. I had changed significantly from the time previous when I had left those shores, because my whole world view had changed and come sharply into focus; everything was now seen as part of a much broader picture, all interconnected.

After losing mum, one of the biggest teachers in my life, I started to really get down to the business of figuring out what the inner critic in me had to say. How it was linked to outdated patterns of thoughts and behaviours that were no longer serving me, what my real needs, wants, desires, talents, gifts and so on are, and how to presence these through developing healthy boundaries and getting much braver and better at communicating them.

As I am getting ready to embark on this journey back to my once homeland again, Eryka’s words were a timely check in. In a new, healthier place now, I notice how I’m taking space I need to get things organised; I’m owning that I need that space. I’m also noticing that it’s still not easy, balancing what I need with what I want and what others need and want.

My daughter is mirroring this back to me in her life too. In her last week of school term she was a bit run down, she was losing her voice, which wasn’t ideal as she was leading a welcome song and narrating a play to honor the coming of Matariki. In the first half of her holidays she wanted to have an extended sleepover with her close friend, what she needed of course was rest. Inevitably her body has now said no to any more activity on her behalf as it rebalances from her having overridden her own best interests. 

It is always a tricky balance between meeting our needs and desires and, ultimately, everything is a trade off. I find my body will make sure I get my needs met when I’m not listening, even if it means developing uncomfortable chronic symptoms or flooring me with some healing reaction. But it’s interesting when I had a bit of a deeper look at how I’m faring with my boundaries under stress as I try to get things done before I go, I can see that when I’m under stress is when I have a tendency to revisit old patterns.

As I’ve traversed this week I’m noticing my mind wants to jump on anything that comes my way and treat it as urgent, even when that isn’t necessary. I’ve noticed that I’m treating others’ wants and desires – not even necessarily their needs – as if they are my priority. It’s as if my psyche has lost the ability to discern and see clearly and it’s taking quite a bit of self discipline and active management to recognise and treat things that come my way in the healthiest way possible.  

And that is okay. Owning who I am is also about recognising the old patterns when they come up and seeing them for what they are. I have to remind myself that I can stand down, relax and lean into being who I am without having to prove myself worthy to anyone.

To recognise our own wants, desires, talents and needs often takes a lot of observation, discipline and persistence. Learning to presence them in relationships with others takes even more so. You have come a long way to be who you are, so own it; own all of it. As Eryka Stanton says “The world needs you to be exactly as you are. You hold the balance in this crazy world.”

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Explore, Uncover and Show Your Real Needs and Desires to Be Happy , Embody Your Spirituality – a Healing Journey, Are You Ready for More Healthy Relationships? and How to Let Go of Your Attachment to Your Feelings, Expectations and Beliefs. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

Last night I had some solitude for the first time in a while, I was feeling tired so I decided to catch up on some Grey’s Anatomy rather than do anything active. Now finished its nineteenth series, I’ve always loved the episode wrap-up/ voice over at the end when the character Meredith Grey reflects on life’s lessons.

She said “When we don’t feel heard or validated it can be easy to forget that we aren’t actually alone. There’s a difference between being alone and feeling lonely. Sometimes being alone is the only way we can hear our own hearts trying to communicate what it is that we actually want, what we need, and who we love. Then we can move through this world with better communication when we actually have something important to say, and be crystal clear when we do.”

For most of my life being alone was a scary prospect, now I deeply value the times I get to spend with myself.  After having completed one of Briana MacWilliam’s Attachment 101 courses last year, I now understand far more about the dynamics of why that used to be so scary to me, and why I feel far more secure in the times I’m alone.

Dr. Gabor Maté says “Attachment is the first priority of living things. It is only when there is some release from this preoccupation that maturation can occur. In plants, the roots must first take hold for growth to commence and bearing fruit to become a possibility. For children, the ultimate agenda of becoming viable as a separate being can take over only when their needs are met for attachment, for nurturing contact and for being able to depend on the relationship unconditionally”.

He goes on to say that few parents – and even fewer experts – understand this intuitively, “When I became a parent, one thoughtful father (who did understand this) said to me that he saw the world seemed absolutely convinced that we must actively form our children’s characters rather than simply create an environment in which they can develop and thrive.”

“Nobody seemed to get that if you give them the loving connection they need, they will flourish. The key to activating maturation is to take care of the attachment needs of the child. To foster independence we must first foster dependence; to promote individuation we must first provide a sense of belonging and unity; to help a child separate we must assume responsibility for first keeping the child close.”

This rings true for me, having grown up in a world that certainly told me - and held me accountable for -  becoming the kind of person it required me to be. That world comprised of my parents, their parents and heritage, our wider family and friends, teachers, religious doctrines, sports coaches, doctors, the government, TV, movies, the media and so on.

Listening to a podcast this week interviewing Tony Schwartz and Kimberly Manns about their audio learning program The Reckoning, I also resonated with their description that our personality types are really a collection of our many parts. The parts – which we all recognise (think of the times you might say “there’s a part of me that thinks/feels…”) – arise out of defense. We want to be shown a sense of value or worthiness and so these parts are what develop in response to the expectations put upon as we grow.

One of the earliest messages I remember receiving was that I didn’t belong, I was on my own, and it was terrifying. As a three year old I recall arriving at the hospital with my dad to visit my mum and new baby brother. I recall my feelings of enthusiasm as I pushed the car door open, this was my moment, I was to become the responsible big sister.

Unfortunately the hospital rules did not allow children onto the ward, so I was left alone on the stairwell. It was one of those which had a platform between sets of steps that changed directions, the platform being large enough to have a little waiting area on it looking up at the doors and corridor between two wards; one of which my mum and new brother were in.

Dad had no choice but to leave me there with a nurse, who only stayed momentarily. So I sat listening as footsteps would approach the doors to the wards and people would occasionally come and go. I was alone and I – in my three year old brain – assimilated the experience as abandonment. I was highly anxious, but I developed a mask because I had to be the responsible big sister and that was my new role.

There was a part of me that presented the highly independent, responsible, confident, big sister to the world at large, but there was also another part of me that later sought through my primary attachment relationships (i.e. my romantic relationships) the sense of safety and belonging that I had left on that stairwell.

Briana says “Attachment styles are the instinctual blueprint, the wiring in the survival part of our brains, that determine how much closeness or distance we need to feel that our survival needs are met. Depending on the extent to which the parenting we received was supportive and loving versus critical and demeaning, many of us grow up with insecure attachment styles”.

Attachment styles can be thought of in the sense of whether we behave in ways that are highly avoidant or highly anxious; with those who are low in both avoidance and anxiety being considered more secure in themselves. There are many ways and layers with which to define this but through my life, and in my primary attachment relationships, I would often fall into what’s popularly called “the anxious –avoidant trap”.

This is where person with anxious attachment (me in my unconscious “wired” still 3-year old state) moves towards intimacy, and the person with avoidant attachment (various romantic partners) moved away from intimacy to regain their space. Life had taken me on a journey in which I then kept attracting people with the opposite attachment style.

This made me feel needy, and when they pulled away, abandoned all over again. I recall one incident, over twenty years ago now, where an ex partner of mine that I lived with was going out on a Sunday night. I broke down in tears as he left, and sat sobbing my heart out on the other side of the front door for a long time after he had gone.

He had only gone out to pursue a hobby, he returned of course, and over time those Sunday evenings became the beginning of the journey to me.  I started doing Brandon Bays’ Journey work, it became cherished time to hear my own heart communicate what it is that I actually wanted, what I needed, and who I loved.

I discovered my first love had to be me and – while I didn’t naturally take space, the closer I was to someone the more available I became – I eventually learned the value of taking and giving space over time.

Over the years I have sat down with many other parts of myself that once served a rational survival purpose and I’ve entered into new relationships with them, honouring the important role they had once served and reframing them so that I could mature.

In Gabor’s words, I had to meet my own needs to feel secure attachment and – to the point from Grey’s Anatomy - so I can move through this world with better communication when I actually have something important to say, and be crystal clear when I do.

There have been many teachers who have helped me along the way, and many of the best have been the unwitting antagonists in my life story, the ones with whom I felt a great deal of pain. But it was this pain that drove me to seek out the wise words and understanding that I have heard and applied over the years from many quarters.

The journey is ongoing, but it is mine to direct. And taking the time to regularly hear what is in my heart is a huge part of that practice.

How do you feel in the times you are left to your own devices, without distraction? Are you comfortable hearing your inner thoughts and feeling your emotions? Would it be of value to you to be able to move through this world with better communication when you actually have something important to say, and be crystal clear when you do?

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy How to Let Go of Your Attachment to Your Feelings, Expectations and Beliefs, Meditation – the Cornerstone to Your Success, How to Deal With Not Being Liked – Those People Who Do Not Treat You Well, How Do I Know When a Relationship Is Healthy? and Do We Need to Better Understand the Pivotal Role of Parenting to Evolve?  To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.