Tag: Reflections

It feels a bit like I’ve dropped through a trapdoor into a different world.

Or I’m that guy in a movie, standing still in the middle of a busy street, the world moving around me in a fast forward blur.

From detached to detached, pole to pole, I have walked. Finding my way and working towards being able to be here, to be now. Sometimes at least. Most times I hope.

This is not a permanent residency I know but now I’ve been here I know the way, and the more I visit, the more familiar the path will become.

Self-revelation always makes me ‘prose’.

Self-compassion always alluded me.

I had no idea. Literally none. Every day I was failing. Every day I did nothing of note. Even the firsts were passed by without mention or pause. Why would I congratulate myself on THAT when there could be a better version of it tomorrow?

These are the self-learned behaviours, decades of being how I thought I should be and lest anyone think otherwise, it is very clearly how I thought it, I built this world view, I built these habits and practices. I honed them, finessed them, perfected them (pun intended, said the perfectionist). I embraced them as good things, flawed things perhaps I knew that deep down, but not bad things. Unable to see the trees as night descended on the forest. Daytime brought the odd ray of sunshine through the dark clouds above.

I am not the failings of my parents. They did not fuck me up, far far from it. No no, this is all me, which makes it both harder to comprehend and, notionally, easier to change. It’s me. Just me. No-one else.

It’s not been easy, re-tracing my steps, circling inward to the core, the driver, the centre of every interaction, every moment of my day. The one eyed daruma that will never be filled. But maybe, maybe one day it will be. Not now, but soon? I have hope, things are changing. People are noticing. I am noticing.

A glimpse then into how I used to live.

Break every moment of your day into good and bad. Where good is something done on time, something done to illicit a smile, or praise, or compliment. A job well done, a task completed. Except the praises from others never land, they slide off and drift away, meaningless the instant they are uttered. No self-congratulatory moments, do not give yourself a break, do not ever accept ‘well done’ as there is always better to be had, more to be done. Plan to be busy, plan to be quiet, but above all plan. There is no flow or spontaneity, not really. Whims are crushed so often they cease to exist and nothing, NOTHING, you do is every good enough for yourself. Now time all of this. 30 mins are your building blocks. Plan around that. Wonder why you are always early. Cannot be late. If I’m late they won’t love me, will think less of me, I’ll think less of me, why? because I’ve failed at TELLING THE TIME. Ridiculous when written down, achingly painful to discover. Every day. Over and over. EVERY DAY SINCE I WAS 9 YEARS OLD. But you build around it, protect the lie that this is how you should live and soon it’s just how life is, without much thought, it’s automatic. Behaviours driven from the core. Failing is bad. Failing means I am not loved. Failing because I was made redundant, failing because I got divorced, failing because I was late, or didn’t bring biscuits. Same thing regardless of magnitude. FAILURE.

And no, no-one said that to me. Not one person articulated it that way, but there is no need. I built my world around that belief, my own religion. Thoughtless and blinkered. This was my life.

Then the trapdoor opened. Counselling, a focus on me. I pulled the lever last year. Unaware of why I was pulling it, not really, not fully. And odd thing to find yourself unhappy whilst you laugh and joke. Except not really, with a few decades of practice you can fool anyone who is looking on. With that much practice you can fool yourself without even realising it.

And now?

Self-compassion. Pausing. Reflecting and praising. A whole world of strange habits to explore, practices to embrace, to cling to. Rebuild. Challenge. Slip. Catch. Rebuild. It’s an odd thing, realising you are slipping back, grasping the frame of the door, determined to remain here, determined to remain now. Determined to care for yourself, to congratulate yourself, to note your achievements, no matter how small.

There is a core part of me that is built on a lie. It will take time to diminish, to lessen, to shrink away until it isn’t who I am anymore. It will be with me for a while but it is shrinking. I am making that happen. Every day. Relearning how to be me.

“You seem happier” said a colleague. In the past my response would’ve been swift dismissal, but now I look up and agree.

Close your eyes, breathe, stop. Smile. Climb through the trapdoor again. Choose your world, then stand still and let it spin and blur around you, it’s ok to be that person, it’s ok to be this person. It’s ok to be you. It’s ok to fail.

I watch myself and I can see it too.

Yes. I am happier.

It’s a slow slow process, changing your behaviours. Especially given that I’ve honed mine with decades of practice, all driven by a set of internal rules that have governed every waking second since I was a child. It takes time, but it is happening. Slowly.

A lot of the focus of my counselling has been on self-compassion. Letting myself fail, not predicting the outcome of things in advance, stepping back when I’m under stress, and learning how to live in the moment. I’ve been able to identify various mechanisms that I have in place which, when flight or fight is triggered, can lead to “not good things”. For me it these “not good things” tend not to be displayed quickly (I can be short tempered and grumpy but that isn’t actually one of the signs) instead I’ll have some epic, private, blow-ups that very few people have had the misfortune to see/deal with.

The counselling isn’t easy, or rather keeping an eye on my emotions and reactions isn’t easy, but the whole experience has been worthwhile. It’s not over yet, this is a journey and all that, and for those who know me well, no, you probably can’t see any real difference in me day to day but trust me, it is working, I can feel the difference.

A small example which may mean nothing to you but is A BIG DEAL for me; I no longer break down my every waking hour into 30 minute segments, nor do I check the clock every 5 mins. Equally I’ve been late for a couple of things by a few minutes (things with fluid start times, like ‘I’ll be at your place at 2ish’ now mean just that, not 2pm on the dot…).

So the short version of the above is that there’s a lot of stuff that has been going on and it’s going well. I’m feeling good, balanced, calm and the hard work is paying off. Go me!

Chatting to my counsellor last week and one thing she pointed out – or rather guided me to realise – was that I’m still operating in my ‘comfort zone’. It’s easier to catch myself before I head into fight/flight mode because I’m at the same place of work, or with the same group of people, so I have a level of comfort and familiarity which makes it easier to process my emotions in those spaces.

Next up I need to get out of my comfort zone and find some new things to try.

Current ideas are:

• Get a piano and sign up for piano lessons.
• Go for a weekend spiritual retreat.
• Attend a creative writing course.

The piano idea is a big one. I had lessons and passed most of the exams when I was a kid. Going back to it would mean confronting the fact I ‘failed’ at it (because I gave it up when I was 14) and let my parents down (which I didn’t at all, but my inner critic will gleefully grab anything it can to throw in my way). But… I remember that I did enjoy it at times, particularly as I got more advanced and started to move away from the purely classical pieces and on to tackling things like The Entertainer by Scott Joplin, and some Billy Joel tracks (yes yes, the Piano Man, I know).

The weekend spiritual retreat is the ‘easiest’ as it is really an extension, or heightening, of my current meditiation habit (which has built to almost every day, even if only for 10 mins or so) but it would be unfamiliar and lead me to confront myself even more which, in itself, would be a challenge. 10 mins of meditation is calming, a full weekend could be very revealing and painful. But that’s kinda the point.

Lastly the creative writing course sounds interesting and fun but I’ll need to watch out I’m not approaching it with the mindset of ‘not failing’ it. Equally, given I have a wonky/shoddy first draft of a short novel written, how is that going to look? Ahhh but that’s my inner critic at work again, who cares about the first draft, it is not something to be judged, instead I WROTE THE FIRST DRAFT OF A NOVEL is where my focus should be (and is, I’m really proud I managed that).

I’ve not decided which (all?) of these to try and I might end up doing something else completely, but given where I am now, compared to where I was when I started the counselling, I’m excited to push things on and see how it goes. After all, what’s the worse that can happen?

I also realise that I’m becoming more and more a walk cliche of ‘live for today’, ‘be in the now’, and more, but the weird thing about cliches is that, a lot of the time, they are actually true.

In other news, all those people who say to eat healthily and be more active are on to something… but that’s a different post for another day.

Picture the scene; A cloud strewn mountain, a clearing with a lone tree under which a monk sits crossed legged, hands raised with middle finger touching thumbs in a circle, possibly chanting. An ancient ritualistic image, a mystical person channelling his inner … summat or other. This is meditation.

Picture another scene; a grey drizzle in Glasgow, a large room with the faint buzz from fluorescent lights overhead, people sitting in chairs, hands in laps, no chanting. This is meditation?

At the start of the year I started attending 30 minute guided meditation classes after work. A friend of mine had been going for a while and it’s been something I’d been meaning to try so I was excited to give it a shot and find my inner zen (or whatever it is you are supposed to find when you meditate).

I wasn’t really sure what to expect that first day. We were at the Kadampa Centre in Glasgow, a space in a modern building in the Merchant City, across from a Brewdog pub. Inside, and I presume that the architects planned for this in the first place, it looks a bit like it should be an open plan office. Instead there is a small kitchen area, a few shelves with books and ornaments you can buy, but the bulk of the space is dominated by the rows of chairs, all pointing the same way and, in front of them, a small raised platform behind which are three large golden statues of eastern origin.

The other thing that struck me when I walked in was a noticeable air of quiet calm, the same kind of hushed tones and tranquility you find in a deserted church. The few people in the space were chatting quietly, and it was with some reverence that we took to our seats.

A few years ago I tried meditating on my own. I did my research, read articles online and downloaded some apps for my phone. I found a quiet place, concentrated on my breathing, tried to acknowledge when my mind wandered, brought it back, concentrated on my breathing, slowly inhale, slowly exhale. Then the time was up, and I sat for a moment thinking, ok, so that was meditation.

I didn’t feel like it was very successful, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, and despite trying it a few more times it just never really seemed to feel right, and I was sure wasn’t doing it properly anyway, I mean if I had been I would’ve felt calm and relaxed, yet all I could wonder was where was my zen? Clearly my mind was too busy, I know I think a lot so, I thought to myself, perhaps meditation just isn’t right for me.

Fast forward to today and, having attend several meditation sessions it turns out I just needed some guidance, and paradoxically, I needed to chill out about how to meditate.

The format the meditation sessions follow is pretty straightforward; the first 10 mins are spent discussing a topic that will be the focus of the meditation (dealing with stress, coping with anxious thoughts, etc), and then 20 mins of guided meditation where you sit quietly, eyes closed, focused on your breathing as you slowly inhale and exhale, before the teacher brings your mind to focus and talks you through visualisation mechanisms to help you process the topic of the day.

For example, for many of us anxiety comes in waves, so we are asked in the session to imagine ourselves bobbing around like a cork in reaction to the waves of ‘stuff’ that cause those anxious feelings. Then we are asked to imagine the waves stretching out over the space of a large ocean, as far as the eye can see. The waves start to flatten out as the anxiety waves are stretched out you realise your mind is calming as you look out to the horizon.

It’s also a lot easier to get into the right head-space when you are in a dedicated place, and oddly in a group of people I found it much easier to focus on the meditation itself, rather than the ‘how’ and, as I left the first session I had a distinct feeling of calmness and lightness of mind. It was at once unsettling and comforting, and I could swear I could feel that my heart rate was lower. I don’t feel that way after every session but I’ve had the same sense of calm often enough now to know it’s not a coincidence.

Alas I’m not attending at the moment as the after-work session now clashes with Bootcamp, but I’m still taking some time to meditate by myself when I can, this time with the help of Buddhify, an app that offers guided meditations on a variety of topics. I tried it a few years back and it never really stuck, but as I enjoyed the guided sessions I’d attend I decided to give it another shot and, as I’ve a better sense of how to meditate, I’m finding it much easier now.

It also has an added bonus of helping me with some of the aspects I’m working on through my counselling, so right now it’s timely that I’ve gotten the hang of this, even if only a little. Mindfulness may be the current in vogue terminology, and I’m aware of the irony of using an app on a smartphone to help achieve this, but the aim of the game is to help calm my mind and to find ways to step back and get some perspective (when Mr. Self Critic rolls in to town).

In our always on world, it’s also nice to just sit quietly and let everything fade away for a while. The world will still turn, the bills still need paid, there are plenty of challenges ahead of us so, if nothing else, meditating is helping me step away and learn to be alone with myself.

It’s easy to get swept along by life, to grab on to things and go where the current takes you but that’s different from choosing where you want to go, even if that means you have to let go of some things and work hard to keep to your own course.

Breathe.

The above sentence is a wordy way of saying that my counselling is going well and I’m learning more about my own personal motivations, behaviours, and drivers, and that I’m working on changing the ones which are in the ‘not happy making’ camp.

Stop.

Part of that is to stop. Congratulate myself on my achievements, big or small. Some days that achievement is not putting off the hoovering again, some days that achievement is brought by losing weight in the last week, and some days it is simply the fact I existed. I have my own set of rules, internalised, for how I believe (my) life should be lived, and whilst I am slowly picking them apart I’m also stepping back.

Breathe.

It probably started when I first went along to the guided meditation session. Being in that environment made the ‘pause, calm, step back and reflect’ process much easier to get to, but with some practice I’m much more able to achieve it myself these days, I just need to remember to breathe.

Stop.

Baby steps they may be, but I’m still learning more about my own triggers, about the ways I sabotage myself and how my critical self is always waiting on the wings to point out my failures, and slowly I’m finding ways to keep that voice much quieter these days.

Breathe.

On weeks like the one I’m in the midst of this week – from Monday to Sunday I have something on every day and evening – when I get tired and my ‘not happy making’ behaviours creep more and more to the forefront of my mind (for those are the behaviours I’ve been using for a LONG TIME to function in the world) it’s telling that I am much better able to cope without getting (too) stressed.

Stop.

Breathe.

Continue.