“The key to growth is the introduction of higher dimensions of consciousness into our awareness.” Lao Tzu

This morning I showed up. I know you need a bit more context than that, but I am starting at the most important place.

Like many of you I’ve been on a spiritual journey for a while now and am past debating about what there is or isn’t out there; each of us has our own understanding of that. I’m also past wondering whether I’m nuts or not when it comes to my own abilities.

Allowing the introduction of higher dimensions of consciousness into my awareness has opened me up to things I would never have dreamed of, far less believed. If you have never experienced your extra sensory capabilities beyond perhaps the socially acceptable intuitive sense, but would like to, perhaps it is time to ‘show up’. You will never know what you are capable of unless you try.

It’s not that I have always seen or heard things that others might think aren’t there. While I was always interested in the why of everything, the upbringing I had was pretty ‘normal’ and I didn’t hear, see or feel anything unusual so far as I was aware.

In my twenties I was all about exploring my personal potential, but that was limited to the realms of psychology and was more mainstream. My thirties were the beginning of exploring my spiritual beliefs and my forties appear to be defined by the exploration of more paranormal capabilities.

Our human potential fascinates me, opening up to the nature of reality I gape in wonder and awe at its limitless potential. What we call progress is more of a marker of how far from our true nature we are.

If we truly understood our potential, the internet would never have been necessary; the capability to connect and communicate with anyone and everyone at any time exists within us all. We would never have invented metal tubes that fly through the air taxing our bodies; the capability to move our consciousness through time and space also exists for everyone.

The first time I really experienced anything strange was in a guided meditation aimed at resolving old emotional wounds. It transported me back to times where these hurts began, I had to “look down at my feet” to get a sense of the age I was when whatever incident took place that had sparked the thoughts and feelings that were holding me back.

Once, when doing this, I looked down at my feet and just knew they weren’t my feet, neither was it within my lifetime. I got the sense the feet belonged to one of my grandparents back in the 1940’s. It was weird, but the message it came with was reassuring me about emigrating, so I accepted the reassurance and didn’t analyze it; I just put it down to my imagination.

To be fair, I often think any of the extrasensory experiences I have could be simply my imagination. Then I realise it doesn’t matter whether it is or isn’t, what matters is whether what I hear or see helps me or others in some way. I just take what resonates and tell others the same.

Years later, talking with a friend after the death of her sibling, I found myself spontaneously telling her what her dead sister was saying about the way she was feeling. It was a strange sensation, we were sitting in the middle of one of those noisy indoor play parks for kids (not the setting I would have envisaged) and I got this tingly feeling, then I remember saying “I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this but…”.

We both had Goosebumps, but it felt great. Then my next thought was “Who am I?”

Over the next few years these kinds of messages popped up more and more often when I was talking to people. In fact, at one point, it was a daily occurrence for people I hadn’t seen or connected with in years just appearing in my head and I’d have a message for them. I would always pass the message on with the caveat that it was being given in case it was of any help, and they should be sure to take only what resonated,

Then I started more deliberately exploring the different types of abilities people have and trying to figure out if there was a calling in there for me anywhere. After listening to many intuitives, psychics, channels and mediums, I got a much better feel for what I was interested in, and not interested in.

I couldn’t see myself developing a career as a psychic or medium, what interests me is accessing broader intelligence and learning and growing from the different viewpoints that exist beyond just those in people’s heads today.

Then I heard Teal Swan talk about her frequent participation in non-physical forums where various forms of focused consciousness simply share perspectives with each other. This instantly grabbed my attention; it felt like this was the kind of interesting and enriching way of spending my time I’d been looking for.

Now I conceptually understand this is pretty much exactly what we do each night when we are sleeping, but that is an unconscious state. I want to deliberately and consciously shift my awareness in my awakened state to other dimensions to converse with entities who can broaden my view of life within this existence.

I have regular experiences of channeling – some of the stuff that I’ve written sounds far wiser than anything I might say; in fact it is always what I need to hear!  I have no doubts that the ‘me’ I think I am, is much broader than the portion of that consciousness that is generally occupying my body.

While this is great, what I would really like to do is consciously separate (temporarily) from my body in order to experience that broader part of me.

There is no need to convince me that this type of out-of-body experience is possible, in fact it’s more common than I would have believed at the outset of my journey to explore our potential. What I had convinced myself of, was that I lacked the time and space to experience it.

I imagined having to wait until the children were a bit older and going on a lengthy retreat somewhere to be able to really focus on it. A mentor of mine recalled her first experience of this as she taught a Merkaba breathing class many years ago, not that I knew what Merkaba breathing was, but I have since Googled it.  That is indeed the kind of practice I had envisaged doing on a retreat somewhere.

But then she suggested I just show up. Instead of waiting for this moment in the future, just make space for it and sit down at a certain point in the day and imagine myself sitting at the table awaiting to meet with those who are there to share perspectives. Call it my higher-school, and let spirit/life/guides direct me to towards it.

To just show up, that really resonated. I could wait for some point in the future and go on a retreat somewhere to learn about it, but that actually feels a bit contrived. With all that expectation on it, it would unlikely reap what I am looking for. Just showing up for 10 minutes each day felt better, more casual. I decided I’d just do it after my daily meditation.

So the first time I tried I’d gotten a bit caught up in the activity of the day and, by the time I did my meditation and then switched my focus to ‘show up’ for my higher-school, I fell asleep.

The next time, yesterday, I meditated early before any activity had gathered momentum, then I sat afterwards to show up for higher-school again. I did a short practice that I had learned from Alberto Villoldo’s Shamanic teachings to encase yourself in the light that resides in your eighth chakara/ higher heart just to set the intention.

What would this look like I wondered? I tried to decide whether I should be imagining myself in a lecture theatre or at a table, and had decided on a table as it is more interactive. Then, as I pictured myself sitting alone at the table, wondering if it would just be me on my own opening up to a new space, I heard a "hello".

I got this sense of talking to an older man and an image of someone with grey hair and a beard popped into my head. “Richard Bach!” I thought incredulously. Now it’s been a few years since I read Jonathan Livingston Seagull and, to the best of my recollection, it hasn’t come up in conversation lately. So this companion at the forum was rather a surprise.

Feeling awkward, I asked him what he was doing there above the clouds, and he chuckled and said “where else would I be?” This had all thrown me a bit as I don’t think I had actually been expecting anything to happen or any entities to appear, far less one I knew of. I became aware that the point of this whole exercise was about sharing perspectives to expand my views and felt suddenly ill prepared.

So I then asked him why he left the fourth part of his book out first time around, he replied that he didn’t think people were ready to hear it back then. Personally it was my favourite part. Then I asked whether he connected here with others often and he does. I asked who shows up to these things and he said sometimes people like us, sometimes entities from other dimensions; sometimes it's busy, sometimes not.

Then I got the sense he was becoming disinterested, it was – after all – the kind of conversation he could have at a book signing somewhere. I began to feel overly conscious that I wasn’t really contributing anything to this exchange and started to feel more awkward again, wondering what to say next. That is when I sensed things fading away and I felt myself drop back downwards into my body.

Whether what I experienced was in the realms of higher consciousness, or simply an over-active imagination, it less relevant to me than what I got out of it. It was a confidence booster that I can just start to show up in the small snatched moments I have, and see what answers arise to the questions I do have.

There are many questions, like what could the evolution of our monetary system look like? What could the evolution of any of our ‘systems’ (healthcare, education, governments, businesses etc) of society look like?

What does the evolution of our species look like with conscious awareness? Is our potential in human form limitless? What’s Earth’s significance in the Cosmos?

I’d like to understand the answers from an anthropological perspective, and what we have to learn from previous cultures that were more advanced in certain ways (not from books, but from the broader consciousness).

I’d like to understand from other forms of consciousness that reside in physical worlds that may be more advanced. I’d like to understand for those forms of non-physical consciousness that are there to guide and help.

These are all things that interest me, they add meaning to why I am here now, having this life experience. But that is just me. Each of us has our own interests, unique and important. And we each have limitless potential to explore these.

The question is whether you will show up? To show up just means making yourself available. Whether there is something specific you have in mind, or whether you just have this general sense of what you’d love to explore, start somewhere – anywhere. 

I once heard someone ask whether life can be defined more by its potential than its limitation. To show up is to believe in the possibility of your life being more than it is now. Believe in your potential and you’ll be amazed at what you can achieve.

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective (and only that, it’s not advice you have to take or act upon) on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me or click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” Marcel Proust
They came to my door, interrupting a quiet meditation, brandishing their leaflet. “No thank you”, I said, “I am a spiritual writer, my beliefs are my own and well thought through.” “Ah”, she replied “with the breakdown of families today we are trying to encourage people to look to the Bible for answers.”

Not that I have anything against the Bible (or any other doctrine) per se, it is just that my own experience would teach that I look outside myself only for inspiration, rather than answers.

I figure that since I am the very essence of that which created me, and would be hard put to argue the miracle and magnificence of life in its creation. I therefore have every confidence my answers are already within, rather than being left to the chance I read something written by another’s hand.

The last time they came to my door, it was on the pretext of what terrible things are happening in the world. It just does not resonate with me that a creator who has given me the freedom to create, think and feel as I please would talk through fear. Fear and judgment, these are human emotions, that I have felt in response to withholding myself from the love that is always there.

As unique as I am, there is nothing that leads me to believe my answers can be anything other than just as unique.

The question is how to find those answers. I found an amusing, yet enlightening, pointer in a novel I was reading recently, set in the eighteenth century. A young Scots girl talking to another about her life in a convent recounted “Sister Xaveria says we should try to be silent, I think so we can better hear God talk. But I’ve never heard him yet, I’m no sae good at keeping silent.”

Now life in the twenty first century does not always allow for a lot of silence, so it’s something I prioritise and carve out. It’s rarely in moments when I am interacting with the world that I can fathom answers, more so it is in the moments of contemplation about them.

I make a point of doing absolutely nothing, except observing my thoughts and letting them go, for fifteen minutes each day, you could call this meditation. I also make a point of getting out in nature and taking walks by myself.

I find life is full of clues to the answers I’m looking for, but it is also true that we rarely see the things we don’t expect to see (that was another piece of wisdom shared by Sister Xaveria with the wee lass in the story).

When I am upset over of another’s judgment, it’s hard to swallow that their judgment is something I wouldn’t even notice if it weren’t mirroring back a judgment of my own.

“Our eyes only see what we need to grow from, so what we see in others we have in ourselves.” Those wise words of Annette Noontil’s resonate, there is no denying the truth of it in my experience. All I need do is look in the mirror of life and see what’s annoying me and – ta da – that is an area in which I have a lot of opportunity for growth.

Like saying no to things that I feel are expected of me without making it a crusade (something I have been guilty of as a defensive tactic in the past), I get the opportunity to regularly practice this as part of my children’s school community. I want to be liked, I want people to think well of me, but I also have to honour my own needs and that can often mean saying no to others.

Having grown up in a world telling me how I ought to behave and feel, where ‘unselfish’ behaviour is extolled as virtuous, I learned that I should put the needs of others before my own and to make a defense if I wanted to do otherwise. Yet how can I be everything to everyone if I am nothing to myself?

Just this week one of the parents gave birth to a new addition and the call went out to fill a two-week roster of meals for the family. I’m not someone who finds joy in making meals, or pretty much any other housekeeping task, quite the opposite – I find it stressful. So I didn’t respond, passive in my no, and felt a bit guilty; though the guilt is getting less the more I practice.

It’s rarely easy to change ingrained patterns and behaviours, but when there is a voice within encouraging me, and outward signs of stress, it is as well to heed what being said. Ignoring it can only lead to later regrets, at best, or illness and ill fortune at worst.

It’s not that I don’t like to help people, on the contrary, I love making a difference in people’s lives. But I also know it’s my experience, intuition and perspective - rather than my lasagna - that is my forte; that is where I find a win-win.

Yet it’s a fine balance to be self accepting enough to put my own needs first and to still be self aware enough to look for areas of growth; and to do either without defense. Being willing to take a hard look at myself is something that has therefore taken a long time.

Sometimes I manage look at what is happening in my life with an objective enquiry as to its occurrence and opportunities, sometimes not. But I never stop trying to be the best version of me and lead the best life I can, following the yellow brick road by seeking only clues outwardly and answers inwardly.

And how do I know when I have found my answers? That is easy, the answers just feel right, they feel good. I feel proud of myself when I’ve taken action based on my answers within, rather than feeling like I’ve survived something.

So how often do you look within for your answers? Are you able to keep silent enough to hear them? Test that they are there and, if they feel right, trust they will lead you to your best life.

Other related articles of Shona’s you might enjoy:
​
Find Your Light and Let it Shine
Meet Challenges with an Open Heart and Mind
Each to Their Own – Finding Your True North
Meditation – You’re Cornerstone to Success
The Most Honest Feedback You Will Ever Get - Dream Messages

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective (and only that, it’s not advice you have to take or act upon) on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me or click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

Feeling Trapped? Know this: Circumstances change; this is not forever. You have to trust that, in time, solutions will present themselves. Read here for the full article on Tiny Buddha

“Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.” Mother Teresa

I will never forget the feeling of loneliness, though it is something I now rarely feel, but those memories are still etched on my heart.

There is no one memory, more a series of them, as people in my life came and went. Yet I was brought up in a loving family, by parents who were very much together in their game of life. I was surrounded by a large extended family who were also in long running relationships, it seemed like the thing to do was find that person to partner with.

Happy ever after is what was fed to me through the very fabric of the society I was brought up in, and people leaving my life was something I felt acutely – and took personally.

Being a sensitive soul, I like to go deep with people, so I’ve always tended towards a small group of close friends rather than a large social circle. Having moved around and moved through different relationships though, I will acknowledge that small group has changed and grown over the years, but with each chapter there can only be a spotlight on a few.

So those few who hold my heart and attention in the present moment are always the ones most acutely felt when they exit my life. What I feel now when this happens (something I am largely at peace with) is massively different compared to my earlier years. I will try to describe what has made the difference.

First though, a few of those earlier memories.

I remember bumping into an old friend at university one day, a day when my usual circle of friends were not there and I was feeling like a spare part hanging around between lectures. It had been hard adjusting to university, it was so completely overwhelming in its size and culture compared to anything I’d experienced before and there was real no sense of belonging.

My old friend had been one of my closest in our early teenage years, and we often stayed at each other’s houses. But I had let that friendship slip as my focus was drawn into a relationship at the age of sixteen. So bumping into her at university made my heart lift, but as we stood and talked it became obvious how much she had moved on, and she had someplace to be; there was no welcome to join her.

My heart sank as I watched her walk away. There was no malice in her actions, but I felt terrible none the less. I became acutely aware of how she must have felt when I had left her to pursue other interests. That is the hardest part of friendships and relationships, letting go when I’ve outgrown them.

Yet I have always let go, the calling inside me to move on stronger than any regret about staying. Sometimes, though, the call to move on has not been mine.

I can vividly remember sitting in my room at my parents’ house one Saturday night, looking up through the street beyond, and watching a neighbor head out for a night on the town with his friends.

I’d been in a relationship with a guy I met at university and, in that summer I graduated, he had left me. He’d had the whole of my heart for almost a couple of years by then, and I just felt so totally rejected and worthless.

On that Saturday night as I watched my neighbor, I felt utterly alone and sad and wondered how to get past what had happened. Having been so involved in that relationship and, having just left university, I really had no circle of friends that I could even ring up and go for a drink with. Even my younger brother was out having fun with his friends.

Slowly, starting with a girlfriend of my ex’s friend that we used to socialize with, I built another circle of friends and life moved on.

In later years I can then recall – in another relationship – my partner going off out with his mates one Sunday evening. I had moved cities and pretty much had our relationship and my work, that was enough to keep my attention fully occupied, so I hadn’t really cultivated a group of friends to socialize with and didn’t much feel like doing that anyway.

It was a strange thing to be faced with an empty space, scary even. But there I was, his Sunday night out became a regular thing. At first I felt lonely, then I started to fill my time with things that interested me and quickly began to look forward to ‘my’ time.

That might sound so obvious, but living in constant company had gotten me used to compromise. There was freedom in watching the kinds of TV shows that only I wanted to watch, listening to – and dancing to – music only I liked, reading books and having time to reflect and contemplate.

But being on my own with my thoughts was not always an attractive concept in days gone past because I was completely identified with the thoughts rather than simply observing them. Talking to a friend the other day about this same topic, I was sharing a memory of being in a motel with the kids and waking up one night about 4am, hearing a loud bang in the neighbourhood.

Wherever my thoughts had started, they quickly spiraled to a bad place in that half awake state. I was soon imagining a mad gunman on the loose and had carefully planned an escape route in my head that included waking the kids up and getting them well away from danger without alerting the gunman. Thankfully I caught those thoughts, observing how they were making me feel and reasoning the unlikely nature of them.   

While I had learned the ability to ‘talk myself down’ from a highly anxious state many years before, it was actually during the time my partner’s social life had left me free each Sunday evening that I began to take more regular notice of my thoughts and how they were making me feel more generally.

I read a book by Brandon Bays called The Journey, recommended by a friend. The Journey was Brandon’s account of self healing, fully recovering from a large tumor with no medical intervention.  

It was the beginning of the journey to me, the journey to my inner world that included no one else.  You see, up until that point, it had always taken another person to explore the depths. But this was all me, figuring out who I am, life and all that I and we are capable of.

That was about 15 years ago and it has, by no means, been an easy journey. There have still been moments of the good, the bad, the downright ugly and the amazing. But loneliness? Not so much. Every since Brandon took me on a guided meditation and showed me how to find the peace within myself, and how connected to everything else we are, loneliness is no longer there to be felt.

The single biggest shift in that conscious awareness of my thoughts, and of the much larger part of myself behind those thoughts, has come through regularly meditating. My whole concept of how who I am, how the world operates and how to get the best out of it all has completely changed for the better. I feel more in control, happier and – most definitely – not lonely.

So have you met the most important person in your life – you – in this way? If you’ve had glimpses of it, I’d encourage you to regularly practice observing what you’re thinking and feeling, the connection between the two and your power to change it. A more balanced and contented you leads to a more balanced and contented world; a world in which loneliness will be a thing of the past.

Other related articles of Shona’s you might enjoy:

Who Am I Now?
Great Relationships Happen When You Put You First
Saying Goodbye
Meditation – You’re Cornerstone to Success
Keep Growing: Don’t Look Back - Don’t Look Down

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective (and only that, it’s not advice you have to take or act upon) on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me or click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.
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​“One can begin so many things with a new person – even begin to be a better man.” George Eliot, Middlemarch

“How do I open up from a point of being authentic me rather than living life through a defensive attitude?” This was a question posed to me after I had written about embracing your sensitivity.

It was an opportune question as I had just met someone the day before who had challenged me on this very subject. She didn’t know she was challenging me; she was just innocently going through a fairly standard process of meeting someone new. And, of course, meeting a new person is a perfect chance to portray the authentic me…. except….

Except authentic me is still in infancy in comparative terms to the more practiced version who has operated in the world for many more years. In truth, making the switch to authentic requires determination and persistence.

Each time I catch myself not acting in my own best interests, and dropping into the more comfortable learned behavioural patterns and coping mechanisms from my life to date, I have to take a deep breath and choose to be uncomfortable for a time.

I had, overall, a lovely conversation with this new person I met. Yet it all felt rather awkward and bungled from my inner perspective. We met through our respective parents-in-law, who are old friends, and we started up a side-conversation as the others caught up on their news.

It was the sort of conversation that took a natural course. We each have foreign accents, so the aspects of what brought us to New Zealand and how long ago and how we like it etc were discussed. Then the conversation turned to the traditional “and what do you do?”

The answer I wanted to give is “I be me”, but that tells her nothing and everything at the same time. Based on what she’d shared about what she did and was interested in, I made a judgment (a mistake) that she probably wouldn’t be interested in my world – the deep ‘meaning of life’ world.

So, instead, I just said “I write about personal growth stuff and I give people advice, a perspective, on things they are tussling with.” That’s at least one hurdle I have overcome in the introduction of my authentic self, not too bad an opener in terms of describing where I’m at, but there have been many more bungled attempts in days no so long ago.

When someone asks what I do, I could go ahead and describe the things that take up most of my time, like looking after the kids and the various roles involved in supporting my partner’s business. Those are the more ‘ordinary’ answers but not my authentic answer. It was however – as I discovered – the tact she had taken in her answer, which is why my judgment was incorrect.

“Oh, so do you mean like a life coach?” she asked. And that, while taking me down a less practiced route, was what opened the conversation up. I tried to explain that I don’t use that term as I don’t have any expectations on what people do with my perspective.

She then asked about what qualifications that requires and whether there is money to be made. That all felt a bit harder to explain on the spot, especially compared to the previously well-versed and practiced responses I had grounded myself in days gone past when I worked in the corporate arena and was used to explaining who I was and what I did.

Certainly my breadth and depth of experience, objectivity and intuitive sense usually equate to a perspective that is helpful to others, but right now I’m in exploration mode, I haven’t settled on a label or a career, nor do I particularly want to; I’m simply answering a calling.

This was not the smooth answer I gave though (having now had time to reflect on it), in truth I can’t remember what I said. I became aware my ego was itching to step in and boost my credibility by explaining that I used to have a successful corporate career, but my awareness of that stopped it in its tracks and so my explanations felt faltering.

But we bungled on anyway. She shared that she liked to read Oprah and other personal growth perspectives, and she was wondering whether I wrote similar kind of stuff. Then she surprised me by asking what I thought about the shift in human consciousness that is purported to be occurring and whether I agreed.

This took us to the deeper stuff, having established that area of common interest in what’s happening in the world as people seem to be awakening to the broader part of themselves. It was a wonderful conversation in all, diving into the kinds of questions that fill my soul while, at the same time, filling my tummy with the delicious homemade cheese scones that had been placed in front of us.

I was aware of the conversation being a learning ground at the time, and wasn’t thrilled about the initial awkward feelings it gave me inside. But that is part of growth. I could continue in my not-so-comfortable rut with it’s more socially acceptable and comfortable labels for things, or I can strive for authenticity and revealing the authentic me.

A friend of mine, who has been studying psychologist and anthropologist Alberto Villoldo’s discoveries on ancient Shaman wisdom, was talking about this very issue of authenticity and labels. While the shamanic practices that she loves will be an integral part of whatever she does, she is also finishing off a diploma that will allow her to anchor herself into something more widely understood.

While there is nothing wrong in that, it just highlights to me that the labels we have no longer really fit and we are trying to credibly create bridges to a future, more enlightened, world. As more of us are recognizing our desire to discover and reveal our authentic selves, I have no doubt that the things we are grappling with today will get quickly forgotten in the future we create.

It all starts as we bring more of who we authentically are into the world. As George Eliot said, with new people you can be a better human, but really – whether with new people or those who know us best -
introducing the authentic you will lead not only to a better future for you, but a better future for our world.

​If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective (and only that, it’s not advice you have to take or act upon) on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me or click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

Don’t Let a Label Be a Limitation – Use it as a Jumping off Point

A quick scan tells me that there is a whole host of online communities and self help groups out there for highly sensitive people, which, in itself is not a bad thing. But when I pick up words like “protecting yourself” and “fragile”, I want to scream from the roof tops.

I have to admit, I’ve always been pretty sensitive about being called sensitive. The term implies weakness, yet I’ve survived this world and - determined to prove people wrong - have even thrived to outside eyes.
 
Sadly that required building a hard shell around me in a bid to ‘protect’ myself. While it didn’t succeed in obliterating the essence of who I am, it completely obscured it even to my eyes; to the point of not knowing me.
 
Over the last few years I’ve set about quite deliberately dismantling the protective armour to discover what lay beneath. Layer after layer unveiled, I am now rebuilding my relationship with the world from my internal core and am truly starting to see how authentic thriving is possible.

I have discovered my body is like a finely tuned instrument, apparently more so than most, every sense I have is sensitive to all that is around it and reverberates within.

I have a deep and rich inner world that I explore asking myself all sorts of questions about life and purpose. I sense other people’s emotions and can tell if someone says “I’m alright” when they are not, I viscerally feel others’ pain and passion – even if it’s only watched on a TV screen, and I sense the same through music and art. When I spend time in nature I appreciate the intricate intelligent design of it all, and marvel at all creation.

I wouldn’t swap any of that because it is the essence of who I am and, frankly, the only experience of the world I would relish. But it does come with another side. With every sense heightened, sensory overload needs to be managed.

For example, the first thing I was aware of this morning was my partner’s rhythmical breathing as I lay contentedly amid that state between dreaming and waking up. This instantly changed as he awakened. Just as my cat’s ears prick up, my body is also on high alert, quickly tuning in to more of the sounds around; a car starting up and our neighbours putting out their bins. I’m awaiting the loud and insistent “mum!” requiring a more hastened arising than I would like.

It is mid-winter here in the southern hemisphere and the days are short, so getting up in the dark is par for the course at the moment. My ideal entry back into consciousness each day would be a gradual and steady awakening of the senses.

I like to open the curtains to slowly let in natural light and let my eyes adjust, instead I open the door to the lounge where my partner had already turned on every electrical light in the place and my world is suddenly ablaze with bright lights, my eyes scrunch in defence; it makes my insides churn and creates a viselike grip between my temples.

That is before I even talk about the smell of coffee or the mood of the other people around me or the list of tasks that require completion before we can get out the door. And because it is winter, my partner had started up the van to heat it up before setting off, so I could smell exhaust.

Suffice to say, by the time I drop off the kids each morning, I feel like I’ve survived something. Just the very fact of living with other people creates sensory overload. It wasn’t so bad when I was growing up, my parents liked things low key too, and we didn’t have 55” TV screens and 24 hours a day of streaming content to contend with.

Yet there were some highlights this morning. In taking the garbage out for collection, I stopped to smell the White Michaela blossoms on the scratty tree at the top of our driveway. I forgive that tree all it’s scratty looks with its half shed leaves, because the scent of the blossoms are just so blissful and were a welcome escape from the exhaust fumes.

Then there was the beautiful conversation with my younger daughter who, in the absence of her older sibling (who is visiting nana) was rather more grounded and calm than can be the case with her sister around. I had this lovely swell of appreciation and deep sense of love flood over me.

Funnily enough I didn’t realise there was a label for the way I am wired and some of the things I’ve found difficult until recently. While I hate labels, this one may serve a purpose, if only to have those I love understand how I experience the world and, hopefully, help others who are wired this way begin to thrive rather than just survive. 

Back in the 1990’s a psychologist called Elaine Aaron coined the terms Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) and Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS). Personally I’d rather embrace the trait than label my persona, I feel we are all a bit too multidimensional for that.

“Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS) is characterized by a high level of sensitivity to stimuli and reflects an increased sensitivity of the central nervous system” says Botenburg et al. “It also correlates with a deeper cognitive processing of physical, social and emotional stimuli.”

Elaine Aaron says “Inevitably HSPs are more easily overwhelmed. When the noise or stuff going on is about right and interesting for others, it’s too much for HSPs. And keeping an optimal level of stimulation – not too much, not too little – is very, very important to every creature. The sensitive ones just need ‘less’ to be comfortable.”

It’s the ‘less’ that is often not accepted or appreciated in a world that is increasingly vying for our attention though, with an acceleration of information and stimulus available. And it’s that social unacceptability that often creates low self esteem and self doubt, or even depression, anxiety, symptoms of autism, sleep problems and more physical health problems.

While sensory overload wasn’t generally an issue for me in my early home life, as soon as I entered the realms of dealing with other people and of the working world, it was often hard to feel good about myself. I remember starting a job in a recruitment office, and being seated right next to the owner of the place who was a chain smoker and sat there puffing away at his cigarettes all day. It made me feel so wretched that the first thing I did was buy a rather large extractor fan and sat it on the desk between us.

Being called things like too sensitive, whiny, anxious, unhappy and even neurotic, and having people tell me to “toughen up” or “just relax, you’re making a big deal out of nothing” was devastating. In fact it led to a whole period in my early twenties where I was diagnosed with “general anxiety and panic attacks.”

This was a defining moment in my life, and one that lies at the root of my distaste for words like fragile and protection. It taught me how my reality was controlled by my reactions. Now, while I can’t readily control the involuntary reactions of my senses, just having an awareness of what is happening makes all the difference, it helps me to control how my body is responding.

While I did not know about SPS back then, there have been moments along the way that have helped me understand that what I was experiencing was not a result of some neurosis.

For example, blue eyes are more sensitive to light than other eye colours. This helped me made sense of the migraines that – since the age of twelve – have often been triggered by bright lights. Yet, without  awareness of sensory sensitivity,  it can come across to others as whiny when I complain about all the lights getting turned on in the morning rather than the curtains being opened.

I also know my body is sensitive to all the popular stimulants like caffeine and alcohol and does not appreciate any medication stronger than Panadol, it can feel awkward to refuse such things on social occasions, especially in the face of people saying “you just need to lighten up”.

Living with others has taught me that some people need noise to drown out their thoughts so they can concentrate, but I know I need quiet so I can hear my thoughts before I can concentrate. So having music on in the house or car can be a point of contention.

Open plan office areas taught me about the perils of horrid fluorescent lighting, uncomfortable chairs, and the soup of human emotions that I was required to swim in just to say I had turned up. That is before we even talk about the endless meetings and having to look in one direction (and look interested) for long, boring sustained periods.

Literally every sense is more finely tuned. I can even get touched-out (I learned that is ‘a thing’) especially when I have kids haranguing me and wanting to cuddle up or have ‘one more hug’ at bedtime after a day of constantly giving my attention out.

Scary or violent movies and documentaries are too visceral to contemplate, and I get overwhelmed at parties, conferences (I have a strong aversion for the superficial) and at shopping malls and definitely kids indoor playgrounds.

These are all things I have known from the inside are not a result of my imagination, yet without being able to educate people more objectively about Sensory Processing Sensitvity, it has often invited many unwelcome comments and been the basis of arguments. It is true to say I was pretty defensive about the issues.

Feeling pain more acutely is another common symptom of SPS. I hesitated when I had to answer a question about that, as dealing with pain is just another part of the armour I’ve worn. I do feel pain but, just as I determinedly focused on not reacting to being tickled when I was younger, I also focused on not reacting to pain.

The reality was that I used to absorb the shock in order to not react to it, internalize it, which is just setting myself up for sickness. When I birthed my second child, I learned how to work with my body in order to feel into and release the pain.  

I just feel so much, on so many levels, and it can be draining. The world we live in can feel like a smorgasbord of stimuli set to frazzle the nerves.

Arguments that others might consider a spat or insignificant, or even just a differing of opinion, are often huge for me. When I left home my mum said “I’ll even miss our arguments”. Not me, I like things to be peaceful.

Yet I was determined not to become a victim so was always asserting my needs, and am quick to stand guard if I sense an injustice.

Then there is the dynamic in relationship with my partner who has Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) which, while sharing some similarities with SPS, also has some diametrically opposite issues to contend with. Each of those has the potential to be the source of the others’ stress, and requires us to each have understanding and respect the others needs in order for us to make the relationship work.

And, of course, there is the grand slam of challenges for someone with any kind of sensory sensitivity: parenting.

With the constant over stimulation involved, sensory overload abounds. I heard another say “I don’t like surprises and I don’t like change, and since parenting is largely comprised of just that many times in each day I get overwhelmed”. While I relate to that, just having to give my attention constantly outward rather than nurturing my inner life is the key factor in energy drain for me.

That said, when I turn back to the amazingly positive aspects of having SPS, I know it also makes me a better parent as I am more aware of my children’s needs. My ability to empathise, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation of little things, and even my visceral awareness of others’ pain and passion. All of it – and more – are the essence of who I am and the key to joy in my life.

I understand why there is a lot of advice out there about protecting our energy, as overwhelm surely drains it. But it is really more about asserting our needs than protecting ourselves. It’s subtle, but it is different. One is about operating from a strong centre core, an inner knowing and honouring of your true self, the other is about defense and armour.

My desire to help others can mean I have often put others needs before my own. But learning to put my needs first gives me more energy to give to others, using the special talents and gifts that being sensitive gives, which makes me happier and healthier.

I read that our authenticity and desire for deep, meaningful relationships, also makes those of us with sensory sensitivity more attractive to others. But the key thing to remember is that good relationships are not about giving more to others, it is about giving more to ourselves. A healthy relationship is one where both people value themselves enough to make sure their own needs are met, just as I wrote about recently in Great Relationships Happen When You Put You First.

Since writing about this journey to me I’ve been on, most of my articles speak to this issue on some level. Some of the relevant ones that spring to mind are Taking Your Own Space, Taking a Break from all that Mental Activity (which talks about strategies for dealing with stress), Step out to reach in, Meditation – the Cornerstone to Your Success, Life is in the Little Things – Finding the Extra in the Ordinary, among many more.

My daughter also has Sensory Processing Sensitivity, and I have learned it is wise to manage her activities carefully. In her first year at school her teacher wrote “she appears to move between being a very young wisp of a child to a rather demanding princess.” Even now at 7 years old, she is not capable of having play dates or doing any extracurricular activity on school days without getting completely overwhelmed and tuning out or melting down (spectacularly).

But I would hate for her to see herself as fragile, despite all that I have written in here about what it feels like to have SPS.

I’d rather she embraced her sensitivities, anchor herself from within and thrive from her centre core rather than create armour on the outside to deal with it. Just as I too now embrace it as I rise from the ashes of my previously burnt out life.

Having a strong sense of who you are, and embracing and honouring that, gives you that inner anchor. Once you have this, you don’t need the hard shell on the outside anymore, you can let it go. You don’t have to protect yourself from the world. Just prioritize your own needs and you will flourish.

If you want to find out more about SPS there’s a whole raft of information available online. Here’s a great introductory video, an overview and a test. If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective (and only that, it’s not advice you have to take or act upon) on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me or click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

Years ago I heard the observation “People don’t do things to you, they do things for themselves.” This means if someone is trying to take my power, it’s because they feel powerless. If they are striking out to hurt me, it’s because they feel wounded.

Thinking “poor wee me” is not an attitude that has ever served me well. Nor I believe does it serve anyone else, other than to elicit a bit of sympathy. Casting me as a victim is not just unhelpful, it’s harmful.

I don’t need to condone what another has done, or analyze why I find myself in trying circumstances, I just need to focus on what I can take out of it. Any challenge I meet is not uninvited. By that, I’m not saying I’m sitting around asking people to take a shot at me or have life serve up some stressful situations; it’s more that I’ve held fears that open up the possibility to these challenges actually occurring.

I remember many years ago being on a long-awaited beach holiday; work had been really stressful. A change in CEO had resulted in a dramatic change in my working environment, one where I felt I’d gone from being valued and included in strategic issues, to being marginalized and pushed out. So this holiday was one where I’d resolved to unwind.

I was doing a pretty good job of it - lying on the beach each day, only taking a break to go and splash around in the waves or get an ice cream - until I received a text from a number I didn’t recognise. It said something like “Heads up the boss is on the war path, someone has made a complaint about you and everyone is talking about it.”

This was in the days before devices, my little Nokia phone did texts and calls only and not from foreign lands.
Now my boss, since the CEO had put a new senior management structure in place, was someone who had previously been my peer. He was someone I regarded as having less experience than me as a people manager, and someone that I felt would be a ‘yes man’ to the CEO, rather than someone who would
advocate at the executive table for the customer experience.

I hadn’t adjusted well to this new arrangement emotionally, but had acted professionally. And now here was an accusation that put me in a position of weakness and I had absolutely no clue what was at its basis or if it was even true.

When I finally managed to get to an internet café and email my boss to ask if this was in fact true, he emailed back to say no one had spoken to him and, as far as he was aware, all was well; I should just focus on enjoying my holiday. This was easier said than done as I had, by then, had several other texts from this anonymous number purporting to be ‘an ally’ and weaving tales of gossip and treachery.

Suffice to say the rest of the holiday was a bust. I was totally consumed with what had happened. On the one hand I was worrying that there may be some basis to it, though couldn’t think of a single thing anyone would have to complain about (it was a bit like when you see a policeman and feel guilty even though you haven’t done anything). Then again, if there was nothing going on, I wanted to know who was behind the malicious texts and why they had targeted me.

There was nothing for me to do but wonder and fret and create all sorts of stories in my head and my anger grew. The holiday spiraled into chaos, a signature moment being the process of bartering for a new camera and literally screaming at the salesperson in frustration (such that it cleared the shop) as he kept changing the ballgame.

Using internet cafes, I was able to uncover that the number the text had been sent from was untraceable as it had been set up via an internet site using false details and hadn’t actually been sent from a phone. The company who facilitated this site cut off the number at once.

On return from my holiday I was relieved to find out that there had been no complaint to my boss, but I was still determined to find out who was behind it and went to the police. Ironically if I hadn’t had the number cut off from sending me further texts, the police could have investigated it more but, as it was, they could do nothing.

So paranoia abounded. It was something I inevitably discussed in confidence with my management team, each of whom was clueless as to whom it might be. But my paranoia sparked more paranoia as one of the Team Leaders then thought I suspected her and was devastated by this.

In the ensuing months a couple of staff issues came up that, having previously trusted me to deal with, my boss was now intervening. He and I were spending increasing hours discussing my actions and decisions when it came to our staff.

The whole thing had snowballed from my original reaction to the unsolicited text.

I never did find out for sure who the perpetrator was, though it was commonly believed to be someone who had been seconded to my team for a while. Even that was of no help because, as much as I racked my brains, I have absolutely no clue as to why she would have taken that action. To the contrary, the suspect was someone I valued and seemed to have a good rapport with.

In the end I could only imagine she had overheard something or other and taken it out of context, putting two and two together to get five. Even then, I have no idea what.

As I look back on this whole story as it unfolded, I can see that it was my initial resistance to ‘what is’ (in terms of the restructure and new CEO), that created my vulnerability. For whatever reason - though it will have been more to do with them than me - the perpetrator sensed that and things just spiraled from there.

While I didn’t immediately cut my losses and run, I knew it was time to move on. I could not rewind the clock back to the days I had been working with a senior team whose goals and values aligned with mine.

I had felt things had happened to me rather than being orchestrated by me, and I would think “I am a good person, why is this happening to me? I don’t deserve this.” That was indicative of my thoughts any time a change would happen that as not of my own doing- that was if I even acknowledged what was happening, often I would be too busy telling myself “this can’t happen right now.”

Out of that challenge, when I faced corporate restructures in my later career (and there were many), they no longer knocked me sideward as that first one had.

That whole challenge with the malicious texts taught me to go with the flow more, and to begin to let go of the impossible - controlling other people and controlling all circumstances. Now instead of trying to psychoanalyze each person or situations that upset me in some way, I look for what each challenge is trying to teach me; it puts me in the driving seat.

So when people come to me with their challenges I often think “What does this person need to hear right now that will be helpful?” I know it’s these moments of challenge that are the making of any one of us. Whether it’s for the better or worse is for each to determine, since it’s how we meet life’s challenges that will shape the outcome.

What is challenging you right now? And how will you meet that challenge in a way that helps you to learn and grow from it? 

​If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective (and only that, it’s not advice you have to take or act upon) on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me or click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

It has taken me a while to pay attention to my dreams – 46 years to be precise. I’ve always felt there must be something useful in there, some point to them, but as they are generally symbolic rather than literal I hadn’t really taken much time to try and figure it out.

Given the momentary lingering of our dreams, mixed with the often harried start to the day and the lack of understanding of the symbolism, I just haven’t focused much on it until now. It seems to me, though, that dreams are a valid form of communication; a way for us to unpack (and make sense of) the experiences we’re having, if only we would pay attention.

Dreams are an unadulterated expression of how we are feeling and devoid of judgment, which makes them a particularly useful form of feedback.

Years back I remember buying a book on dreams in a vague attempt to understand them, but it felt wishy-washy and didn’t really capture the sorts of dreams I was having. At the time I was working in a career I found stressful, so it is no surprise that I used to have recurring dreams that were like various versions of The Hunger Games playing in my mind.

These were dreams of a death chase, with some form or forms of heinous creatures pursuing me in a relentless way. It is sad to say that was not unlike the wakened version of my life at the time, with corporate politics and egos at play. Of course, in my awakened state I’d tell myself all sorts of rubbish to play down the constant frustrations and feel better about my situation, but the dreams didn’t hide from the truth.

These days, thankfully, dreams like that are rare. Though with two young children to contend with, not all dreams are devoid of symbolic incarnations of something stressful!

Wide awake, in the throes of ‘life’, it is too easy to quash down how I am really feeling and just plough on from task to task. I have discovered this is no way to live though and wrote about it, most recently, in What Are Our Thought Patterns Really Doing for Us.

Ignoring how I feel about things comes at a cost, my health. From early warning signs like headaches, aches and pains, colds and chesty coughs, to full blown wake up calls like accidents and serious illness, it appears to me the way we feel about things in our life will keep percolating until we pay attention.

That’s what makes dreams useful; they give us another angle of awareness. With so many explanations for pretty much any and every kind of dream at our fingertips these days, I find there is great satisfaction in being able to quickly scan the results of a Google search to see what comes up and find something that feels right to me; message received.

There is another recurring dream I have had since childhood, though not so much these days, where I’m trying to dial a phone number and keep misdialing. An instant search on “misdialing dreams” and, voila, I have some sensible answers. It could mean I’m feeling:

• frustrated in communicating something
• isolated or cut off from others
• the need to reach out for help
• a fear of needing help and not being able to get it.

As someone who has often seemed to think a little differently to others, the top two definitely resonate with me. Though, while these dreams have stayed with me – emblazoned in my memory by the accompanying feelings of anxiety – the situations that elicited these dreams are long since forgotten.

Had I of being paying attention a bit more at the time, no doubt the self awareness would have helped to resolve issues a bit quicker.

Not all dreams are bad of course, the nicer ones are just as insightful and, even better, the good feelings they evoke stay with me long after waking up.

Last week, for example, I was dreaming that I was in my house (though it wasn’t my actual house I live in, just one I thought of as my house in the dream) and then I discovered a whole new room I’d never known was there before.

Symbolically house dreams relate to the place in which your spirit dwells (i.e. you) and new rooms indicate areas of ourselves we hadn’t noticed before; in short it’s about self-exploration and personal growth. This was interesting because – in the dream – the new room I happened upon was large and fairly empty, a drawing room that led down into a huge palatial dining room.

I recall fleetingly feeling overwhelmed as I looked into the dining room, since no end could be seen to it, so by the time I stepped into the drawing room to go and have a closer look, the entrance to the dining area was encased in glass as if to say “let’s deal with one thing at a time”.

There were many other things going on in that same dream, before stepping into the new room, I was aware the kids were running amok and – simultaneously – this huge crocodile-like creature was also on the loose. I was afraid it was going to eat my youngest child but then realised it had flat rather than sharp teeth so would probably be more interested in the house plants.

Without even looking it up, it felt like a message to me to ease up on my fears (my youngest is very impulsive and I often notice the angst I feel in relation to that).

In the past I also used to have dreams about forgotten rooms – in fact there was a recurring dream about an entire wing of the house that I kept rediscovering, which was all locked up. There was a feeling of dread that the door, once unlocked, would unleash all sorts of unwanted terror in my life.

When I had the more welcome and much nicer version of the undiscovered rooms last week, I realised I must now have cleared any fear about who I am or what could be lurking in my depths, and have cleared the space to grow.

Sometimes dreams can be multi-faceted, and may require several lines of interpretation woven together. Just take each symbol, and the prevalent feelings that stick with you, and check what each means in a way that makes sense for you.

There is no right and wrong answers when it comes to dream interpretation, each of us places different meanings on different symbols, so while a Google search will bring a variety of answers, it’s important to go with an answer that feels right to you.

The important thing is to start noticing our dreams as one of the most valid and honest forms of feedback we have at our disposal.

Over time I have come to believe that dreams are my best litmus test for what is truly going on in my life. While I have a goal to find more happiness in a day than frustration, in a waking state I am often too distracted to pay much heed to what I’m thinking or feeling. But my dreams don’t lie; they often tell me that I’m still sweating the small stuff.  

It’s a bit like if I were on a diet, and I kept snacking on things I shouldn’t and telling myself it didn’t matter it was “only a few chips”, or a “bite of chocolate”; at the end of the day, the scales wouldn’t lie. Neither will my dreams. If I am frequently doing and thinking things that are not making me happy, my dreams reflect this whether I am consciously aware of my overall emotional state or not.

So it makes good sense to me to use my dreams as a way to check in on my goals and progress towards them. They are quick to tell me when I’m heading the wrong way, and when I’m on track.

If you are like me and on quest for growth, a truth seeker (your own truths), you might just find the answers are right under your eyes – literally - when you are sound asleep. Your dreams are waiting to guide you to your best life.

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

“Finding my Truth North gives me the courage to focus my energy where I believe it should be, not according to what is popular or pleasing to others.” Jennifer Cummings, Author

My friend and I had been discussing our different perspectives over a protracted conversation. Her tone fell flat, disappointed that I seemed rather dismissive of the ways and abilities of the Shaman.  Another friend, observing the conversation, commented it was like watching one of those high brow literature discussions, except on spirituality.

Perhaps we sounded like we knew what we were talking about, I suspect our adoption of Alberto Villoldo’s analogy of the particle and the field may have sounded somewhat intellectual. In reality, we are just two people trying to find our own version of our truth.

We are both very much motivated in our quest, earnestly searching for answers from many sources, the best of which is – in my opinion - inside our own hearts.

It’s a strange thing, beliefs. My friend and I would both agree we are spiritual but, beyond agreeing on the existence of a higher intelligence, it was quite fascinating to uncover where our similarities and differences lie.

That said, I suspect we are more alike than different; it’s just that our differences define the edges of the relationship between us.

I find it a fine line to allow someone their beliefs and be interested in exploring them and comparing them to my own, without appearing either disparaging or so keen that I might want to adopt them.

This was likely what my friend was sensing as we discussed a Shaman’s abilities. I was not shunning her beliefs, it’s just that some aspects of those don’t resonate with my own truth. While the Shaman’s ways are a bit too abstract to appeal to my nature, I actually hold them in absolute reverence.

When I wrote an article last year called Awkward Social Conversations About Your Beliefs it was interesting to see what it elicited. One man who conversed with me on the subject was quite keen to discover and categorise my beliefs (he had a stab at the Dharmic faiths), whereas I think he was really just trying to orientate himself on whether to pay me any heed.

That was how I felt back in 2014 when I had an ‘awakening’, which I will define as the process of moving from a vague sense of something bigger to a more conscious awareness of it, and then a friend invited me to see Eckhart Tolle at the city theatre.

My first thought was “who’s he?” accompanied by feeling a bit threatened that this person might not believe what I believe and try to convince me otherwise. Having just discovered my truth, I felt a bit protective of it and I didn’t want to hear anything that might contradict or convince me of something else at that point.

Then I read The Power of Now and, instead of contradiction, it inspired me to new depths of my freshly founded beliefs about the world. Not only did I buy a ticket to accompany my friend to his talk, I also signed up for the Presence Through Movement class beforehand with his partner, Kim Eng.

Kim’s class was another turning point in my life, she’s an amazing teacher, again adding new words and depth to my thoughts, feelings and beliefs.

That led to my exit from the corporate arena and opened me up to more seeking. I started to write to help focus my thoughts, and began to share my writing to encourage others to do what they love and become the person they are on the inside.

Shortly afterwards Sounds True (a multimedia publishing house) ran a free month-long event with founder Tami Simon interviewing a whole raft of authors about their relationship with spirituality and their experience of awakening. There were as many divergent experiences as there were similarities, and I realised then that there is no one truth, only one’s own truth.

No one else has my DNA, my heritage, ancestry or experiences, nor the lenses through which I see the world; we are each unique. And so our truths are similarly so, speaking to us in different ways.

When I’m open to new information, I’ll either happen upon it or go and seek it. I don’t like even the faintest whiff that someone might be trying to convince me to their way of thinking on anything. I’ve had enough of that in life.

It’s my observation that we humans appear to have a bad habit of trying too hard to emulate philosophies or principles that someone else has lived by. Systems, rules, and rituals then get created, based on someone’s interpretation of these philosophies, and there becomes a ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ way to do things.

This isn’t just unique to religious groups, it happens in all walks of life. Yet I’m fundamentally not into a one-size-fits-all of anything. I don’t care how good, how amazing or how miraculous it’s been in someone else’s life, it might not be for me.

It’s not that I’m closed to new things, it’s more like I feel the other person is making a judgment; that what they have is better for me than anything I might have already.  No one else is invited into my belief system, in fact it would repel any followers, since no one else is walking in these shoes.

The most empowering thing about more consciously exploring who I am, and what I believe, is a more solid sense of what my needs actually are. My default belief system, like yours, was formed by my early experiences growing up. When I examined the things I believed, I found there was a lot that simply didn’t serve me at all.

Often, while attempting to ‘be a good person’ or ‘do the right thing’ or simply just fit in, I’d find myself doing activities and making commitments that the inner me was really not on board with, and I’d be stressed, anxious or unhappy too much of the time.

There are so many ways to think about the world, the things that happen to us and the things we have control over. I have now more consciously woven my beliefs together from a smorgasbord of offerings I’ve heard, read, seen, felt or experienced over a number of years. More than that, I’m constantly resetting my compass as my beliefs evolve.

I personally feel I’ve hit upon a truth when it’s something that inspires me and empowers me in the here and now. I certainly don’t hold any beliefs that would do the opposite.

But I also accept that others do; and I’m okay with that. Of course I’d love it if everyone believed in things that empowered them and made them happy, but since only experience can really teach each of us anything, the best I can do is be an example and inspire others to explore their own beliefs. 

To make conscious decisions, rather than run on default, when it comes to every aspect of my life is hugely satisfying and liberating.  

Just as I would encourage anyone and everyone to explore and be who they truly are, I think a huge part of that is about claiming our own truths without the need to explain or justify them to anyone else. If you can set your own true north, you’ll never get lost, you will always manage to navigate the way towards your best life.

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.
​

Talking with some friends about our relationships it became clear that, not only have my ideas on this topic evolved a lot over the years, but the way I am within my current relationship has changed quite substantially from the way I have been in any other relationship to this point.

Since many of us get exposed to similar ideals through media, at home and in society generally, my early ideas about relationships were probably similar to yours. The sorts of beliefs that formed in my head were things like:

• it is my job to make others happy, and it is their job to make me happy
• we are meant to be with someone, the right person is out there for each of us
• we ‘fall in love’, an act which is outside our control and completely random
• if it is ‘meant to be’ it will just work
• children are better supported by a mother and father who are together… and so on.

While society has changed a lot in the last four decades and some of these ideas have become a bit old fashioned, many of us still hold on to these beliefs somewhere in our psyche. I know I certainly felt I’d failed on many levels as the years chugged on and my relationship numbers tallied.

On the plus side, I’d had plenty of opportunity to test out my beliefs. I tried hard to make things work each time, and read pretty much every relationship book I could lay my hands on. I learned a lot about personality differences, gender differences and communication, and - as someone who is sensitive to the way others are feeling – I generally tried to accommodate my significant other’s needs.

Things always started out well, but after a time the unavoidable “what about me?” voice would speak up. With all those sacrifices towards another’s needs, all that learning and insight, why weren’t my needs reciprocated I’d wonder? So I would inevitably end up searching elsewhere.

When I met my current partner twelve years ago, it was almost the first time I had been alone since I had hit my teens. Admittedly I hadn’t been single for very long, but it was the first time in my life I had actually been happy about being single. Getting to that place had given me the chance to really start to understand my own needs better and take a more honest look at myself.

By the time we met in our thirties we were both very aligned on what we had learned from our previous relationships. We agreed on the need to be ourselves, to keep doing the things we each enjoyed (even if it wasn’t something the other wanted to do), the importance of independent friendships and of good communication.

Around that same time I heard two things that really resonated deeply, and have reshaped my beliefs ever since. The first was advice to let go of the cumbersome impossibility of trying to control other people and circumstances. That phrase “cumbersome impossibility” just felt so rich and on-target and conjures up exactly the way it feels when I am trying to control anything other than my own reactions.

Since I am the only one who controls my reactions, I then began to really understand I am therefore the singular creator of my own reality. So the second thing that stuck - although really confronted me at first - was hearing that if I really understood my ability to make myself feel good, I would ask no one else to be different so that I could feel good.

Over the years I have proceeded down our relationship path with these new thoughts in mind, yet admit I have often been drawn into thoughts and behaviours that are attached to my old beliefs, like looking to the other to “make me happy”.

This was especially true amid the intensity and pressure of bringing children into the world while working full time in a job that carried a lot of responsibility; that cast up many strongly rooted archetypes. My partner and I both highly value our autonomy, yet were feeling trapped by our circumstances. We became freedom seekers, fighting control with control; it was pretty ugly. 

It was really only in 2014 when I took a far more intentioned hold of the reins to release some of the pressure that things started to change.

I get my energy from inward reflection, not outward interaction, and that requires having my own space on a regular basis. I could not go on giving my attention outwardly twenty-four hours a day (literally, even in sleep, it was with one ear alert to the kids’ awakening through the night), so with deliberate focus I etched out some me (only) time.

Then my partner followed suit with a big authentic leap of his own in 2016 when he started his own business. It’s amazing how, with no real focus on ‘the relationship’ and pretty much allocating any time to spare on our authentic selves, the relationship has become naturally more harmonious.

I’m not saying we should never work on improving our relationship; but our relationship is always improving when I look at each annoyance, disappointment and frustration as things that hold a lesson for me. Then I find the root cause is rarely my partner; he is merely the trigger of some other deeply entrenched belief that is typically not helpful to me anymore.

Neither am I condoning that anyone stay in a relationship that is unhealthy or abusive. But it is important to understand why you were drawn into it to try to break the pattern and avoid a recurrence.

One thing my friends and I were talking about, that I found quite thought provoking, was whether it is healthy and/or helpful to change our own actions in order to fulfill another’s needs.

We were specifically talking about the different love languages we all have. So if one person thrives on (for example) lots of praise but the other is not naturally inclined to give gushing praise, is it even healthy to indulge that?

While that may be a small thing that could make a big difference to one person without particularly diminishing or overly taxing the other, my mind curved back around to what I’d learned 12 years ago. If someone is looking for lots of praise then they are looking for something from another person to feel good; yet they have the power within them to feel good with or without it.

And while it may be a small thing to make an effort to praise someone, knowing they enjoy the praise, does that then perpetuate their reliance on others to make them feel good i.e. does it actually disempower them?

As evolved as my friends and I are about some aspects of our relationships, we all acknowledge that we are being and doing various things to please our partners, even in small ways like wearing or not wearing perfume. Then we wondered what our partners were being or doing in order to please us?

While I’ve come a long way towards my authenticity within a relationship, I recognise there are still ways in which I’m not fully myself. Interestingly, with my partner working away for a week, it’s given me the opportunity to notice who I am without him here and flush out some of those behaviours. 

So far I’ve noticed I’m more relaxed in many aspects. It feels like the pressure is off to act in certain ways, like the way I might manage the kids’ behaviour if he’s around, or when things get tidied, or what I am doing with my time or even what time I go to bed.

Now, I could make that about him, or about what we need to change in the relationship, but it’s not about that; it never is. He is not actually driving any of those things, even though he may make comments or act in a way that might make it appear it’s his issue. I have come to learn that if I wasn’t buying in to those comments on some level, he wouldn’t even think to make them.

There is always room for us to step into more of our authentic selves, and each step we take we feel the freedom of our being in response. That puts us in a much better place to be present and give another person the space and freedom they need to be more of who they are.

And what could be more beautiful than a relationship with another who is being their authentic self and freely choosing each day afresh to be with you?

​If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.
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“If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, we aren’t really living.” Gail Sheehy

A friend was asking me if I wanted to do some work with her on Family Constellations. The first thing I had to do was Google it, “What is that anyway?” I wondered.

Over the last few decades I have done a lot of personal and spiritual development work. At first it was about wanting to be the best me I could, so I did pretty much any kind of improvement work that crossed my path. I read books, watched videos, listened to countless audios and met with many successful people.

Then, as the years passed, I became more and more confused about who I actually am. It felt like I had been sliced in so many ways, I was no longer recognisable. At that point, my mission changed to uncover the authentic me and try to find out what, if anything, my calling or purpose is.

The work continued, this time it was more focused. As life moved along in its serendipitous way, I heard from more people who had been on the same journey, and the understanding of who I am and why I am here became clearer.

I won’t pretend I now have twenty-twenty vision on the whole topic, I don’t; it’s more like a broad understanding. At least when I look at my life now, it’s more transparent – the inside is reflected in many more ways on the outside.

For years, my mentor has intuitively guided me to not look back, nor down, to keep moving forwards. I hadn’t given that a lot of thought until the opportunity to do Family Constellations came up. My inner response was that I’ve done enough retrieval work for now.

Retrieval work is the work we do to figure out who we are and why we are here. It is about ‘retrieving’ a sense of authenticity and seeing through the habits, traits, values and beliefs that we have unwittingly adopted along our journey. It’s about sifting out the helpful from the unhelpful.

Family Constellations is fascinating, but it also feels like a warren of never ending interconnected burrows. The deeper you go into your family history the more ‘we are one’ becomes clear. Had it crossed my path a few years ago when I was in full-on retrieval mode, looking for any clues to the authentic me, I may have dived in.

It is also entirely possible that there may be a point in the future that it peaks my interest. We do, after all, grow in cycles. If we are evolving and learning, we spiral to learn something more; if we still haven’t learned what we need to, we go around the same track again – likely with a new stage setting in our play of life.

Understanding who we are has so many facets to it that you could literally get stuck there. So recognising when it’s helpful to do that kind of work, versus when it’s a distraction, is crucial.

That said, the opportunity to evolve is with us in each moment, without ever doing any kind of retrieval work. You can dissect yourself six ways to Sunday, or you can just figure out how you are feeling in each moment and go from there.

I know when I’m feeling good and when I’m not, as do you. I just need to look at the signposts that are there when I’m feeling bad to figure out what it is that would make me feel good again. This is where our growth occurs whether it is the result of awareness from retrieval work or not.

There may be many big screaming signs, like a career or relationship we’ve chosen, but it is just as likely to show up in the small nuances of life. For example, if I get a text from another parent asking if I could pick up their child from school, I have to watch my reaction – does that feel easy or hard?  

It may sound simple, but as someone - probably like you - who likes to be helpful, I have to pay attention to my response. There is one of my daughter’s friends we often pick up, generally it is easy as we are going past her house anyway. However, one day I couldn’t do it as I had already collected my kids earlier, then I felt guilty.

That is the reaction I have to watch for.

Loving acceptance of our own needs is a powerful part of living authentically. Whether you think you may have inherited some deep sense of regret from a forbearer, or carry a particular longing from a past life, or have repressed anger from your childhood, or are expressing a condition of the collective consciousness, what will always matter most is how you feel right now; that is the only thing you can change.

I understand now that is what my mentor has always been urging me to do.

I’m not advocating that we shouldn’t seek to understand ourselves or others, just that we shouldn’t get stuck there. Understanding why we think and feel the way we do can be interesting, enlightening and helpful, but it is not necessary for change. Change will only occur when we react differently.

When another friend asked whether I am trying too hard to change and learn life lessons, it made me pause. Learning happens in stages, first we become aware of what we didn’t know, then we have to learn and practise the new thing, before it eventually becomes an unconscious habit. 

It is a bit like looking back on learning to drive, it was clunky. There were some aspects of it that seemed really challenging, and I made heaps of mistakes, but eventually I got there. As I will if I focus on loving the real me and taking care of my needs.

Having moved beyond the threshold of discovering my authentic self into the process of living it, I admit that it is not always easy. My friend has witnessed the deep turmoil some everyday situations have brought about in my psyche as I attempt to navigate life more authentically, so I understand where her question comes from.

Trying to change and deal with things in a different way takes courage and practice. Yes, there are some issues that arise that I make a mountain out of a molehill of as I try on my new self; it is clunky, but what are the options? To go back to the trained reactions, the ones that want to ‘fit in’ while the inner me is screaming to be heard?

As we start to move forwards in life, adopting anything new is likely to be stressful at times. It requires consciously breaking a whole bunch of patterned responses we have been using to date.

For anyone who has ever done any kind of personality testing, regardless of the model, it usually looks at how we react under pressure. The best summation I’ve heard of these reactions are flight, fight, fold (inwards) and freeze.

My own accustomed responses have invariably involved me fighting against any sort of perceived injustice (there have been more crusades than I can recall), and spending endless agonising hours analyzing internally over who said what and what to do about it all.

My personality hasn’t suddenly changed in light of all my awareness, the journey to authenticity continues moment by moment, in the seeming trivialities of day to day life. Sure, I can see more clearly when I act in a less authentic way at times, but these trained responses are accustomed to taking the reins under stress.

Saying ‘yes’ to something we have become practiced at saying ‘no’ to (i.e our own needs) is stressful, and vice versa when saying ‘no’ to situations we’d previously have succumbed to in order to keep the peace, or be thought of nicely, or to fit in and not rock the boat.

Yet knowing every form of physical illness represents some aspect of our authenticity that we have repressed in some way, it seems so much worse to consciously continue the pattern.  

While it can add more pressure to change how we each react in a stressful situation that is where the rubber meets the road when it comes to change and growth. It is only with practise I can become comfortable and confident in my own skin, and it is only then I’m likely to treat the molehills as the little blips in the landscape they are, rather than as erupting volcanoes.

If you have spent a lot of time discovering who you are and why you are here, remember it is only when you put what you’ve learned into practise that life can start responding to you in a different way. Better to be clunky as the authentic you, than consciously aware of your deep unhappiness in the compromise of yourself.

Be you, your happiness and confidence in that will grow with practise. You will also change not only your world for the better, but your increased confidence and obvious joy will inspire those around you and that changes our whole world for the better.  

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

So often we focus on what’s lacking, or what didn’t meet our expectations, but we’re a lot happier when we appreciate the little things and recognize the beauty in the ordinary. Read here on Tiny Buddha.

When I feel strongly about something and it invokes in me feelings of anger or injustice, I will spend a lot of time arguing it out – mostly these days – in my head. I am very mindful of Rumi’s wise expression to “Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”

It has taken me many years to come to understand that arguing isn’t going to get me very far. Sure, as a teenager I often wore my parents down through my determined ‘dog with a bone’ approach. Wearing someone down, though, is not a very satisfying outcome.

When someone capitulates simply because they no longer have the energy to fight about it, it feels like a hollow victory.

“A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still” has resonated strongly since I can remember. But I have always felt I should say something rather than nothing, even if it was from a place of anger, indignation, resentment or sense of injustice. Speaking out against injustice was something I felt called to and still do.

Personal growth, however, has taken me on a journey to a point of examining my motives and understanding that expressing my anger – or anything similarly emotive – is only likely to invoke equally negative feelings in others and lead to aggressive opposition or passive avoidance of me and/or the topic at hand.

However, when I can inspire another view within someone, well, that is indeed satisfying.

It’s not that I’ve suddenly become a master visionary, able to conjure pictures within others that would have them walking on water. Nor have I become a master at asking questions in a non confrontational way that causes people to relook at their own beliefs with fresh eyes.

It’s more that I’m at a point of awareness about my reactions (and what they are likely to elicit if unleashed in their raw form) that is causing me to pause and examine what is going on before acting.

I’m not rolling over and saying or doing nothing in the face of injustice; I’m just learning a new way to express myself. It’s about taking the force of that energy that rises within me and using it in a more positive way.

Just last week I grappled with an issue that evoked such feelings of anger in me it exclusively consumed an entire day (and many hours since), with barely any time taken to make sure our family ate. Honestly, it feels so lowbrow and, frankly, quite embarrassing, to tell you that I was brought to my knees by something as ordinary as a school fair, but there it is.

Our school fair triggers me on two accounts. One is the lack of transparent communications from the school about the rather substantial voluntary efforts required from the parents of a particular class to organize the fair and the other is about being true to my authentic self.

In situations like this where a task is assigned without consultation or communication, I figure there will likely be mix of motivation and capacity. There are those very enthusiastic volunteers who would have put their hands up anyway, there are others who wouldn’t feel the urge to put up their hands but are happy to pitch in now they have been given the task and then there are those who, frankly, feel held hostage to the task and may only do it because they don’t want others to think badly of them (endemic in society today).  

Dwelling there for just a second, it elicits in me all sorts of feelings about being bullied, peer pressure, covert behaviours etc. Nothing inflammatory you understand….

The second issue is I’m not in the least bit wired towards or passionate about many of the practical things in life, nor a lot of social interaction, so this sort of activity drains my cup fast. And I have to tell you, whatever little is in that cup to begin with, gets swallowed up quickly just in the day to day practicality of living, looking after a family and supporting a business.

So if I park there for another second, I’m aware that it sparks all sorts of feelings within me about being true to myself, to do only what fuels me and ditch the rest. Most importantly it’s about living up to all that I’ve written so much about over the last few years.

When I put these two issues together, I realise what I am contending with is my own sense of guilt in the implications of being true to my authentic self, meaning I feel it will create more work for others if I am not participating. Then I feel the injustice of that guilt which arises because of the (rather covert) way someone has chosen to go about the task.

There is, after all, a much wider parent community and a broader community still that supports the school, from which more willing volunteers could be solicited I am sure.

However growth, in all its glory, comes from the very uncomfortable process of actually applying our enlightened ideals to our life – be it at home, in an office, or at a school, or anywhere else we spend our time and with anyone we interact with.

So I had given my apologies for this task to the school principle earlier in the year. Fully aware of my righteous indignation on this topic, I worked extremely hard to make sure my energy was in a more inspired place before writing and rewriting (again and again) an email that had a more of a matter of fact tone rather than an inflammatory one.

I didn’t try to resist all the feelings of anger inside, instead I meditated, got out in nature and did my ‘go to’ thing when I’m searching for answers, I wrote. I thought about the people in this class’s parent group who are enthusiastic about the activity and tried to put myself in their shoes, gaining more of an appreciation for our differences in the process. I thought about why the school even holds a fair, another contentious question that remains unanswered for many, and I answered it to my own satisfaction.

Luckily I had bumped into the principle the week before and we had chatted casually about the holidays, so I had held that image in my mind as I constructed the email I wanted to write, imaging myself bumping into her again, not wanting it to be ‘awkward’ because of something I’d written in the heat of the moment rather than in the cooler light of a fresh dawn.

All of that got me into a more balanced and inspired place to write the kind of email needed.

All went well, once I had excused myself from the task I felt a sense of relief… that was until last week when some of the organizing activity got underway and was in my face again. I was being asked by a parent to fill out a form indicating the top 3 preferences I had in the organizing activities.

There was a voice within me that immediately sounded the battle-cry and invoked energies akin to Mel Gibson’s rendition of William Wallace in Braveheart. “There is a time to shut up and there is a time to stand up” it said slyly.

Obsessed by my battle I wrote, and rewrote, again and again, a response I was going to send to the whole parent group involved. I read out a few versions to my long suffering partner, and then I prepared the distribution list…

Thankfully, as mentioned, I have long since learned the value of resisting the urge to press the trigger on an email too hastily. Fortunately I couldn’t just ‘reply all’ to the parent group and had to copy each name into the email individually, so pictured myself talking to each and every one of them. By that point, I knew I couldn’t send a group email, I knew it would make things worse not better. But what was I to do?

I meditated and heard a voice “The sun will rise and set, the world will keep spinning whether you say something or not. But you have a voice and a choice…. to inspire”.

I asked for help before I went to sleep “just give me the answer, what should I do?” I pleaded with that wiser part of me, a lone voice in my head casting off into the expanses of the Universe.

Inspiration comes knocking

Then, the next morning, a couple of things fell into my inbox in response. One was from someone who’d previously asked whether there is a (political) platform where I want to manifest my message or am I just flowing with whatever comes my way.  He said “love your answer”; I had to remind myself what I’d said:

If anything, my writing is my platform. But I don't see myself standing against anything, I believe resistance or 'pushing against' anything gives it power. Instead I am working hard to drop my defenses any time I feel them rise. I try to ignore, as best I can, anything I do not like or disagree with and, instead, build on the dreams of what could be. 

“Er, okay, reality check” I thought. There is no doubt that came from the wiser part of me! I had then gone on…

Our power is within, and any time we give away our power - whether to a partner, child, parent, government, doctor, teacher etc - or even an opinion someone has of us - our soul will not get aligned with it. The evolutionary path is one of conscious awareness, it's at an individual level. If we can work on that it will inspire others towards it. By changing our conversation within, we will change the world, no doubts.

Humility reestablished, something else then caught my attention, some words in an article by Dan Pederson:

Most of the time, when we enter into an argument, we’re lowering our standards. We’re lowering the bar of what’s important and we’re lowering the bar of how to communicate properly.
Set the bar high. Force people to come up to your level. Not in a pretentious way, but in a way that says “we can do better”.

“Okay” I thought, “clarity is returning” – simultaneously with “thank goodness I didn’t send that email!”

Setting the Bar

Well, here is what I know, I know what I expect of any school we have chosen for our children. I expect that school representatives treat parents with dignity and respect, and vice versa. Whether little or much is expected of the parents in support of the school, it is communicated upfront and in reverence for a parent’s own needs and priorities.   

Ergo, I need do no more than that which was agreed upfront (which was only to help on the day of the fair itself). No need for more apologies or defence.

Again I took a ‘shoe on the other foot’ tactic in my imagination and thought about all the people who do enjoy this activity and willingly give their time. I also thought about those who less willingly give their time, and realised it’s just all part of the personal growth journey; we are each in a different place and free to make our own choices.

Something that I read in the minutes of the first school fair meeting came to mind. It was something I had previously disregarded as it is preceded in such a way that elicited a sarcastic “yeah right” response from me at first. But, now in a better space, I decided to take it at face value:

“those who can’t give as much need to have no guilt about it.”

So, in the end, I simply sent an email to the lead organizer (who had also previously been copied into the email I’d sent to the school principle giving my apologies) asking to be removed from the distribution list for all the fair organizing activity.

Funnily enough, the lead organizer reflected back to me in her response the sentiments I’d read in the minutes of the meeting, to feel no guilt. To me, this is testament to where I’ve managed to get my energy on this issue. 

What it comes down to is that arguing, whether about a school fair, or an issue in a more personal relationship, or – in fact – on behalf of a whole segment of society, can pour oil on the fire. People become entrenched in their views, whether outwardly or inwardly.

In being true to the authentic part of me, saying yes only to the things that fuel me, I know will inspire others to the same if I use the negative emotions to inspire positive action within me instead. It doesn’t mean necessarily a whole group of parents will follow suit this year and give their apologies.

However, it may mean they reflect on it later and notice, in me giving my apologies, no one died (not letting others down is a survival instinct) and I have not been socially outcast as a result. It may give others the confidence to say ‘no’ to something else in future.

In fact, because I didn’t let the negative emotion spew outwards and vilify those involved and, instead, used it to fuel my own growth and resolve, I am able to happily look the principle and the fair organizer in the eyes with a smile as we pass momentarily in the school playground. More wonderfully, I see their eyes smiling back rather than avoiding contact.

This whole journey with the school fair is just about me learning to embrace who I am, being true to myself without making any apologies. This has given me confidence which will make it easier the next time I say ‘yes’ to myself in the face of an opposing request.

And who knows, in time, by overcoming my own fears and embracing who I am, perhaps that will inspire others to uncover their authentic self and say ‘yes’ to themselves too.

To Rumi’s point, rain is made of small droplets whose effects are felt and seen depending on the quantity of water falling. Water being something that works its way around and into things, helping what is natural to grow while at the same time harbouring the ability to destroy those things that are not natural or authentic.

If something isn’t sitting right with you, explore it. Figure out why it’s making you feel that way. Then act in the most positive way you can. Even if it is clunky action that is better than not acting at all because it will just eat away at you inside. Say ‘yes’ to you and you will inspire others to the same.

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

“Be the Change that You Wish to See in the World” Mahatma Ghandi

While this is one of those powerful quotes that speaks to my heart, in practice it really feels a bit tricky. Every day I find myself disappointed or frustrated about things in my world, and I know that it’s my reaction to them that can make a difference.

Yesterday, in many countries, it was Mother’s Day. For the first time ever I received a completely handmade and handwritten card from my eldest daughter, it was beautiful. Seeing unprompted words like “to mama” and “I love you” written all over it made my heart melt.

That said, there were other things about the day that I felt disappointed about that didn’t quite meet my expectations of Mother’s Day.

Today I’m reflecting on my reactions and the thoughts in my head they are tied to. Thoughts about our society especially marking the day as something to celebrate, that children will (to a certain extent) learn who, what and how to honour through our example and, most importantly, I am a mother worthy of that honour.

While the thoughts might seem enticingly in the category of a change I wish to see in the world, my reactions were not; I was making all sorts of judgments and suffering as a consequence. Yet I’d much rather be in a world where loving acceptance was the predominant experience over any judgment.

Sure, I can dwell on the ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’ of how I was feeling, and that might create a temporary change in others’ behaviours. However, it’s unlikely to inspire any sort of lasting change. Instead, a more lasting change can be found in my own reactions.

And I recognize that my reactions are tied to experiences and expectations from society and my own upbringing, something I am always so quick to point to as that part of us that is ‘man made’ rather than our authentic selves.

When I take a look at what I really value, it’s there in the first paragraph about Mother’s Day, the unprompted and spontaneous words from my daughter. Those were gold and I, instead of letting that golden feeling warm and light the vibe for the whole day, tempered it with a whole load of other garbage in my head.

Getting wrapped up in my own perspective, making things ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, and confronting or avoiding others as a result is not a change I want to see in the world.

Loving acceptance, however, is a change I’d like to see. Therefore I have to be in loving acceptance rather than in judgment.  I know I’m no Mother Teresa, but I’d like to have that level of compassion instead of making judgments and feeling disappointed or annoyed as a result.

There are so many changes I’d like to see in the world, like transparent communication, evolved leadership and evolvement away from our economic, education and healthcare systems and governments. Each and every one has a lesson in there for me.

It will take awareness, openness and ongoing focus and practice to make it happen. Simple, not easy, but I am committed to it.

Talking to my friend’s daughter recently, we were discussing this topic of bringing about change. She was talking about her experiences of the many people she has met in our westernized education system, who are simply subjecting themselves to it because they feel they need to be ‘in it’ to change it. Without the credibility of at least a masters or doctorate, they feel they will not be listened to.

That reminds me of a discussion I had a few years ago with a colleague as I was contemplating my exit from the corporate world. He had taken me on, valued my perspective and championed me in some controversial roles. He felt I could do more good from within than on the outside.

There is merit to being in the game in order to change it. But I don’t have to be in the game in order to inspire others who are. And I can, as Ghandi said, be the change in order to inspire it.

Those changes start with an awakening to and ongoing commitment to my authentic self.

A close friend commented to me last week that I do well in spite of the fact most social interaction brings me out in a rash. It is true, since undertaking this journey towards authenticity and bringing more of who I am into the world, I have literally sported a bit of a rash on my face.

I am not comfortable in the company of most people because I sense they are wearing a sort of mask and don’t even recognise it.  It has been interesting for me to observe in this last few years how I relax more when others are drinking a little (even though I don’t) because their guard drops as they relax and I get to speak to the unencumbered person underneath.

That person, the one who has let society’s conditioning and expectations melt away, is inevitably much more understanding and compassionate and a lot easier to connect with. And so I understand that when I am wearing my mask – like I was for some of Mother’s Day – it makes it harder to connect with those around me and vice versa.

As I more determinedly step out into the world as my authentic self, I still get plagued by all the old thought patterns that ran the show back in the days my mask was the only part of me that ever faced the world. It’s no wonder I get a rash. But it’s getting easier.

I am just thoroughly grateful that at least I know who I am these days. As I move forward taking these small steps, which are actually gigantic in some ways, the world will continue to change in response.

If we each commit to being the person we want to be then, before we know it, the change we wanted to see, the change we learned to be, will be reflected right back at us from all around.  

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

“Self is a sea boundless and measureless” Kahil Gibran

A spark ignited when my friend told me she’d spent two hours down at the beach yesterday contemplating this question. At first my mind whizzed with all the possibilities, and then I sat and contemplated the actual question and its inference.

“Who is this self that I don’t believe in?” I wondered. In the realms of our entire existence that felt like such a huge question. So I narrowed it down to two ‘selves’ to keep my head straight; let me introduce them.

There’s Mind-Me, the one that lives this life I’m having in this body and this place, the one everyone acknowledges is ‘me’; even my dad.  Then there’s Big-Me, the one who is eternal, multi-dimensional and omnipresent, the one some people struggle to even acknowledge might be there. That is okay, I don’t.

Yet Mind-Me struggles to trust Big-Me; maybe it’s the little ego Mind-Me is so fond of, or the multitude of experiences Mind-Me has had since birthing into this body, in this place. It’s taken Mind-Me over four decades to begin to understand Big-Me.

Mind-Me likely had the same sort of upbringing as you did. The details will be different, but the gist is the same: There were bad times and good times, struggles and challenges, peppered with moments of upliftment and joy.
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Based on some of the wiring Mind-Me birthed into, and these experiences since arriving, Mind-Me now has a whole heap of tapes playing in my head that, quite frankly, don’t really serve me at all. Meeting Big-Me has helped Mind-Me become aware of those tapes in my head.

Big-Me is amazing, always upbeat, always moving forwards, always seeing the best in everything. But there is more, Big-Me rephrased the question that got me all jazzed up in writing this in the first place.

“How would life be different if Big-Me was in the driving seat?”

How would it be different for you? If that greater part of who you are was to take the wheel for a while?

Holy shmoly. Now we are talking, the playing field really opens up!

But before we go there, let’s give Mind-Me a bit of credit – go on, you do the same for yourself.

Here is the thing, Mind-Me has been pretty good at getting my big girl undies on when there are changes to be made. I’ve never been one to shy away from ‘doing the right thing’ for myself. If I’ve needed to move jobs, leave a relationship or otherwise change things in my life, regardless of how terrifying the prospect, I’ve always taken a deep breath and jumped.

I understand not everyone feels or acts that way, it just depends what wiring and experiences you came into. But don’t think for one second there aren’t a whole heap of tapes in my head that amount to a lack of self confidence and self worth, there are. I just push through despite them and am thankful for everything I have in my life as a result; good and bad.

I realise that to have acted in that way, and to feel that way, I must have always known Big-Me at some level. I had faith that life would ‘work out for the best’ - always – even if I couldn’t see it right then.

So part of me thinks, with Mind-Me running the show, I’m not sure how hugely different my life would be on the outside, perhaps there just would have been less angst and turmoil on the inside which would have resulted in less obstacles along the way.

But then I think about the Big-Me I’ve come to know and, well, that knocks my socks off.

Big-Me isn’t just about confidence. Big-Me has the power to create life as Mind-Me knows it, and far beyond.

​Big-Me lives in abundance and knows only wellbeing. Big-Me is not limited by my physical senses, Big-Me experiences all aspects of life in a multisensory way I only caught a glimpse of when my mum passed over. That is a whole other story in itself, but it was glorious.

Big-Me blows my mind!

How true that is, Mind-Me struggles to conceive of life with Big-Me in the driving seat. That is why Big-Me finds ways to put others’ experiences in front of Mind-Me to help me understand what my potential is.

Listening to and reading about the experiences of others has expanded Mind-Me’s view of human potential far beyond where it lay 10 years ago, even a year ago, and it continues to expand. It’s simply a matter of conscious awareness and applying what I become aware of to my life, so I can add it to my knowledge and experiences.

So how would my life be different if I believed in myself, in Big-Me?

I would have vibrant health rather than having some chronic mumbles and grumbles, along with the occasional acute wake up calls.  I would see the perfection in everything, compassion abounding rather than judgment arising. I would live in abundance, without concern for where I am living or what I am wearing or eating, it would simply all click together. 

I would be love, allowing myself to feel it rather than holding it in resistance as I am apt to do when I get stressed. In allowing myself to be and feel the love that is there, my potential in this body to navigate the wonders of the non-physical world would grow exponentially.

Telepathy, telekinesis, transmutation, astral projection, on and on, become possibilities. What’s more… is the realization that putting Big-Me in the driving seat of my life is simply an ongoing shift in conscious awareness. It is a practice.

Becoming consciously aware of all that I am, all that is possible, is a reflection of more and more of us awakening to the same.  That is nothing short of magnificent.

Imagine the changes in our societies, in the way we live with our planet and all its creatures, and the cosmos around us? We could be free of the chains of the economic system, and of all the other systems it has spurned. We would approach relationships, child rearing, health, education, science, leisure, creative activities, even nourishment, all in different ways. Thinking would be valued not for its limitations, but for its limitless potential in creation.

The world really could live in all its glory, and it is. That is my personal take out from all of this, is seeing just how perfectly all of this is unfolding around us.
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For each of us, life is a journey. But how about we start to explore our dreams and capabilities? Kahil Gibran is right, self is a sea boundless and measureless. So, I ask again, how would your life be different if you believed in Big You?
 
If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.
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I groaned inwardly “Why did I just agree to that?” I wondered, quite annoyed at myself.

Being a person of my word, I knew I needed to set a reminder in my calendar to get it done. “Why did I just take on a task that I really did not want to do?” I berated myself again.

Twice I reset the reminder, the third time I deleted it altogether. Another week went by and I saw the person I’d agreed to help a couple of times. Each time it weighed heavily on my mind, I wanted to say something but the right words just didn’t come out. Thankfully she didn’t ask.

Then, finally, over the school holidays I decided I couldn’t just ignore it. So I started an email to say that I’d put the task off several times because, despite having an apparent knack for design, it’s not something I really enjoy. Then I shared how I would go about it if I were doing the task, and hoped that was of some help at least.

I also volunteered to do some editing of the words within the design if she could put them in the body of an email. That I can do really effectively, quickly and painlessly.

Buoyed by this, it gave me a flash of inspiration to email another person I’d asked a favour of myself some 18 months or so ago; to mend a beautiful piece of craftwork that I had originally bought from her but the kids had subsequently damaged.

I shared my own experience of being asked to do something that I had a knack for but didn’t enjoy and said it had occurred to me I’d probably done the same to her, to feel free to pass back the craftwork undone. This was also liberating as I’d been wondering how to approach the subject since it was a favour she was doing and had drifted for so long.

Glad of the prompt she shared she’s done most of the repair but the last part had languished, and was insightful enough to say that was “the story of her life” and she would be glad to pass it back.

Then I watched as life played back to me again this empowerment from saying a discerning “no” when the character Miranda Bailey, Chief of Surgery in Grey’s Anatomy, took her high heeled shoes that she absolutely hated wearing and swapped them back for her old surgical clogs. The storyline was exploring the perceived pressures to be or do something because of a culture created by society.

The key to it all is discernment. As many times that I say ‘yes’ when I should really be saying ‘no’, the opposite is also true.

It would be rare for a day to go by and I haven’t said ‘no’ to the kids simply because I am feeling too distracted to turn my attention to making it a ‘yes’. When I’m in the midst of running the gauntlet of tasks between school pick up and bedtimes I am usually feeling distracted and somewhat overwhelmed, the likelihood of me saying ‘yes’ to anything the kids ask is slim.  

Being kids, they give instant feedback, usually either rather loudly, or, silently, as the slip away and do what I just said ‘no’ to anyway…

Given that we think 60,000 to 70,000 thoughts a day, and the vast majority are on autopilot, a replay of your collective past thoughts in your subconscious mind, it’s fair to say discernment requires practice. That means taking a step back for a while when you are about to say yes or no to something or someone.

Most of us have an automatic pattern of yes and no. Personally I know I say ‘no’ to my kids too much too quickly in some circumstances, and ‘yes’ in other situations where a ‘no’ would serve better. With other people, I have been guilty of over-committing as in my example above, not wanting to let others down or make them feel bad.

Taking a beat to examine the motives behind our response can be enlightening. I find, in saying no to the kids, I’m often denying them an opportunity to learn and grow because I’m feeling too harried or stressed in the moment to actually invest a bit of time in helping them.

While I need to retain my sanity, it would also make sense to invest the time (at least occasionally) so they can become more independent and – frankly - hassle me less.

Then there are the times when great opportunities come along and I say an automatic no. Either I am too frazzled from the multitude of others things I’ve have taken on in a bid to please others, or am simply too scared to step out of my comfort zone.

That is why Jim Carrey decided to become a Yes Man (the movie). Seeing a desperate need to do something different with his life, his character started signing up for everything and his life experiences grew in rich and unimaginable (and, of course, hilarious) ways.

I’m reminded of the time my old yoga instructor got on touch to invite me along to her birthday celebrations at a yoga retreat. I almost rejected it out of hand.

So many good reasons not to go. For one, I’m not very sociable and knew none of her friends. I also like to spend the weekend with the kids, going away for the night was a big deal to them and me as they were still quite young. And, of course, this is not to mention it was an entire weekend of yoga; a two hour session is one thing, but two days…!

Yet something nagged at me. Two days cut off from the outside world seemed quite appealing. Two days with other women who were likely to at least share an interest in the deeper things of life. Two days of healthy eating, of contemplation and mediation. Also, I really like my old instructor and hadn’t seen her in a while.

Suffice to say it was an amazing weekend, it tested me at times but it was empowering and fulfilling.  

These are the things life is made of and I don’t want to miss them because I’m running on autopilot.

Taking the time to pause before I answer yes or no, discerning whether something will fill my cup or drain it, is something I’ve become much more mindful of.

What about you, are you running largely on autopilot? Would you benefit from taking a beat before you respond to a request? Are you brave enough to put yourself first more often? You may as well, because it’s only when we start to value ourselves other people can start to see the true value in us.

​If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.

As William Shakespeare wrote “All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players”. That is the nature of our reality here on Earth of course, everything about our physical existence is temporary yet it’s all telling us a story if we pay attention in the right way.

As I reflected on this, I started to wonder about the people in my life in particular. In this era of social media, our relationships are much more apparent as we continue to connect in the present with those we knew in the past. But as I thought about it, I realised there are really only a small number of people that have much effect on me right now.

It’s always like that, people come, people go. It is perhaps easier with hindsight to reflect on the lessons we learned than the ones currently in play. For example, when I think back to my first job in a large company, I cringe to think about my own part in that particular act.

The people on stage were very different to those who are now in my life, with the exception of my dad; although his role has now changed somewhat. It was the first time I had ever had staff and a department to run and, as usual, I wanted to be the best I could be.

In some ways I succeeded, winning national customer service awards year after year, with promotions and pay rises along the way. In other ways I was party to the emotional drama that remains my signature memory of the place.

I was fully aware that having a job as an official apologiser (I ran the Customer Relations department) did not make me an easy person to be around. No one can tell customers to tone down their emotions, so sitting at the end of those bullets day after day, dealing with all the escalated complaints, I got emotional. I called it passion.

Now there were times people complained about things and it inspired me into action; hence the career progression and awards. But here is a tip, if that passion is fuelled by emotions like anger, frustration and indignance it’s usually expressed in just the same way.

Then last week, an actor with a bit part in my current life reminded me of that time. She was talking to a group of parents about the need to try and communicate without emotion as it makes it a whole lot easier to deal with the issues. She is right but “that’s rich coming from her” I thought.

That is when I pondered on the bit part of this particular person “why is she even on my stage?” I wondered, “I hardly know her”. Clearly there are some things I still need to learn and she can teach me.

Not that the actors on stage with us really have any awareness of the lessons they are teaching. In fact, if someone is actively trying to teach you something, the real lesson probably lies elsewhere. It’s all about who they are being to you and what it evokes.

This led me to think about the full cast.

When I tallied up the people in my life right now that have an impact on me – positive or negative – it amounted to relatively few numbers; thirteen to be exact. “Gosh” I thought, “Shakespeare nailed it, it really is like a small cast in a play.”

It was also surprising, and perhaps a relief, to realise how many others are in my life in a more neutral way.

Those we live with usually rattle our chain more than others, especially when we have been taught how to find fault in everything – a loud drum that beats throughout most of modern society. The same is true for me.

As someone who likes a lot of quiet time, an organized and clean house - but does not enjoy organizing and cleaning more than once – it is interesting that I have chosen to have a partner and young kids who constantly challenge me on those fronts. It is also true that we most often choose a mate who is our opposite in so many ways.

Realising that these particular actors and I are the main characters in what is likely to be a long running show, my intuition is telling me to grow through the pinch points. It’s up to me whether I want this to be a sitcom, drama, documentary or horror, but I’d like to choose sitcom as it’s so much easier when we can laugh at things.

It’s also much easier to laugh at them when I have a broader perspective.

So lately I’ve begun a journal that I note things in each night about the nice things people have done for me, or made me feel appreciated or uplifted in some way. That too stems from something I first heard way back at that job I mentioned “notice the good things”, I was just too busy being angry to do that justice then.

I figure I have to do something to counteract the tendency that I was trained into to notice all the not-so-good stuff. Interestingly the things that annoy us most about people are likely where our own strengths lie. It was a wakeup call to me to finally realise that things like my communication skills and emotional intelligence are a gift and not everyone finds those things so easy.

The other heartening thing about the list of actors on my stage, is that there are many whose role seems predominantly about uplifting and supporting. And of course there are a few who rattle my chain, but I am able to look at those in a different way now.

That really is in part thanks to my mum and the role she played in my life. Mum had a strong sense of right and wrong, black and white; so my upbringing was fairly strict and typical of the era and place. As a child and young adult I felt rather controlled and resented those strong opinions that held me in judgment.

As an adult, still repeating the same thought patterns and feelings about it, I then realised that I was holding myself in judgment of those opinions rather than my own. Instead of feeling comfortable with my own choices, I was still defending them and that was on me.

And as life does, it beat the drum louder and louder until I could really not stand it any longer. Onto the stage of my life came some new protagonists, each more outrageous than the last, so I could really get over this; I needed to get comfortable in my own skin.

I found myself confronted by strongly opinionated women in the professional realm until finally I encountered one whose behaviour was outright domineering. “I will not be bullied by you nor anyone else” I heard myself yelling across a meeting room one day at the last protagonist in this life lesson. Finally I had drawn a line.

After that, life got a bit easier. I decided to figure out who I really am. I’ve discovered I’m not so black and white as those opinions others tried to force upon me, I’m more about the full spectrum of colours, “each to their own” I feel.

On this journey to me, it’s fair to say this lesson comes in many guises. Back in January I wrote about another example in Do What Fuels You and Dump the Rest but I have to say, that reflects only the vestiges of that particular lesson, its grip has loosened and is slowly disappearing.

I am not quite there yet but the need to defend, to stop trying to please others or to have them agree with me is negligible in comparison to what it once was. Instead I generally hold to my own beliefs and allow others theirs. In fact, I now believe that is one of my core life lessons – to understand there is no one universal truth, the only real truth is our own.

So I look at my mum as one of my greatest teachers, she led me on the journey to me, the discovery of who I truly am, and why I am here in this world. Thankfully in those last years she was here, I had become comfortable enough in my own skin that my relationship with her took on a whole new feel. I was able to drop the blame and appreciate my mum rather than see her in this negative and one dimensional way.

No person is singularly how we see them. That really struck me when someone I knew took their own life. My personal experience of them had been only in the last couple of years of their life, and it was a little scary if I’m honest; there is a raw edge to someone who is that unhappy. But at the funeral I got to hear about their life in a much more multidimensional way, and could appreciate the fullness of who they were to the many others in their life.

These are some of my biggest lessons so far when it comes to people:

• To look for and appreciate the lessons they are here to teach me rather than resent or blame
• To listen to the drum when it starts beating, rather than have to invite in a whole darn horde of drummers  to blast me into sense
• To seek a more rounded view of those that yank my chain
• To appreciate those who support and uplift me

So take stock of who is on your stage right now, note what you like or dislike about them, see if you can connect that with others in your past that may have been similar. If it helps, ask a friend or someone neutral for their perspective. Try to take the helicopter ride on it all, a broader perspective, and see what life may be telling you. It will help you get past the groundhog-day style of life you’ve been leading and take you further along the path of your best life.

If what you read here resonates and you’d like a fresh perspective on a situation in your own life, feel free to contact me. There’s no charge or strings attached, I truly enjoy helping where I can, click here for further information. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog