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Learning to listen to my heart… part one

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Over a year ago I created a morning routine to support my well-being and I rarely stray from that, but this morning, I did. I left the house early to go for a walk and to enjoy the rare sunshine. A crisp, bright frost and a brisk stomp (as my nephew would call it) out into nature. Very uplifting I have to say. And I was thinking, I haven’t updated this blog in so long. I wondered why that was… and I know that I have been hiding as per usual. But why? Writing this blog makes me vulnerable and ‘out there.’  And quite often I don’t like that feeling. I have even experienced a small amount of hate mail from an ‘anonymous’ source. Although not quite as anonymous as they thought, and it was traced and recorded with the police. Quite often I have experienced the dilemma of that fine line between honesty and sharing too much self. I think I have written about that a few times now. But anyway, this morning has inspired me to write and put some vulnerability ‘out there’ on my blog.

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It’s cold here… and when it is sunny it is beautiful but most of the time there is that thick familiar blanket of cloud. This grey flat monotonous light does little to inspire me… Don’t get me wrong, I do love the UK countryside but the same cannot be said about the climate. There were grey and wet days of course while we were abroad last winter, but not the consistent cold like this. It is an obvious and yet very powerful difference to wake up to and it is a negative influence to my sunny disposition! I don’t feel good here. I don’t feel at home. I feel disconnected much of the time.

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I don’t want to live my life spent without the connection to nature everyday. Living in this concrete suburban jungle made up of silly rules that I just don’t agree with, but having to conform to anyway because that is what is expected of me. Well I don’t buy it…

I take myself back to when I was a little girl… I was always the rebel, the one asking lots of ‘why’ questions, the one who spoke her mind whenever something happened that just seemed stupid, unfair or unjust. I lost this part of myself somewhere in school where my once big voice became small and quiet and timid as all I wanted to do was somehow fit in and be acceptable. But I never was enough; my ears were wrong, my teeth were wrong, my voice was wrong, my religion was wrong. I was never going to be considered acceptable in this environment but still I tried…. I felt like a MISFIT and this feeling stayed with me.

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I remember that at certain times I would feel connected to myself whilst; creating, painting, writing and singing. One day when I was 14 I was sitting in my art class, painting maybe shells or maybe mixing paint for a cement mixer I had drawn, when the school ‘bully’ started making fun of my work (this was not unusual she had been picking on me regularly for sometime) and she pushed this a stage further that day by splatting paint on my painting. Now I knew I was scared of her, (she was built like a tank!) that no-one I knew stood up to her but I also knew from that tight feeling in my stomach that she had just gone too far. So, I spatted paint right back… She hit me! She hit me hard on the side of my ear and my head buzzed and burned. The teacher didn’t see and I didn’t tell him. When I got outside after class she was waiting for me. I had stood up to her in front of her friends and she didn’t like it! So she hit me to the ground as my punishment. I learned a big lesson that day. I had stood up because I KNEW I had the right to protect mySELF. I took my power back. I showed her that even though I was scared I would not tolerate her behaviour towards me. I am sure she learned a big lesson right back… she knew she had ‘won’ the ego fight. But the winning part didn’t matter… She knew she had hurt me and by doing so had hurt her self.

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I had a boyfriend at the time, my first boyfriend (if you don’t count Michael when I was 5!) He was in the year above me and used to smoke at the school gates (cool huh?) This ‘bully’ girl (I even remember her full name!) used to smoke there too. A few days after the event she told him she respected me and would be leaving me alone from now on. I had behaved with honour to myself even when faced with the fear. I wonder if she remembers any of this!

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My real connection to self came and went. Sometimes I remember KNOWING something didn’t feel right but just going along with it anyway. I rarely questioned anything openly anymore. I was a grown up and should behave like one.  I was a mother now and must earn an income. I graduated in art but later went into teaching. I remember being offered my first teaching post and feeling a heavy dread in my depths of my belly but hearing myself accept the job during that phonecall. Everyone was congratulating me while inside I felt like I had sold my soul! This job that made me desperately unhappy, stole my time away from being present with my daughter. It took a car crash one morning on the way to that school to wake me up. Someone had been driving too fast up a blind hill. He hit the car behind me. She had to be cut out of her car and sustained serious back injuries. I was lucky to not have been in that car. I remember people asking afterwards what had happened and not being able to tell my story fully. Most people heard the first part that someone went into the back of me and I sustained a whiplash. Happens all the time. It was more serious than that, with five or six cars involved, we blocked the road for hours. The worst part for me was the shock and being physically trapped in my car. It shook me up, gave me months of panic attacks, years of physical pain and therapy and yet it also SAVED me. On my part-time therapeutic return to school I handed in my notice to that head teacher. She was probably as happy to see me go as I was to leave… She was a bully. But I wouldn’t allow myself be bullied, I had learned that lesson. So, that dynamic was never going to work out.

By saying yes to that job I had broken one of my most important rules.  I had made the decision based solely on my ego and ignored my heart. That most sacred place where I am connected to source. And I knew it was the wrong decision back then and that’s why I felt I had sold my soul.

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So now, I try really hard to remember to ask myself the following when making decisions – if I say yes to this, what I am sacrificing? And is that thing I am sacrificing, more important than the thing I am saying yes to? Melody Ross from Brave Girls talks about this in her Life Restoration course. She calls it the ‘sacred yes.’

Nowadays, whenever I ask this question while connecting my true soul essence, I feel deeply real, centred, grounded and safe. But, I still hadn’t learned my lesson! More to come in Part Two next week as this post is already too long… Thanks for reading. X

 

 

 



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  1. James says...

    Great post baby. Honest and brave (girl!) x