Wholeheartedness

I’m amazed by how much I’ve learnt about myself in the last 4 months that Tony’s been away. Admittedly it hasn’t always been easy or pleasant. A lot of my self-discovery evolved around issues with self-love or rather the lack of it and how Tony had been compensating for that. Developing real intimacy with myself and learning to embrace my imperfection and vulnerability have been my biggest challenges.

Slowly, however, I feel like I’m getting somewhere in this process. I notice how I’m experiencing feelings more intensely. Almost every day now I’m close to tears or actually crying because I allow myself to fully experience a feeling. It’s a full body experience rather than the numbed down version of feeling I developed over the years by trying to protect myself and shutting off from my vulnerability. Experiencing this is scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

The other amazing side effect of this process is how my heart doesn’t just open up to myself and my own imperfection but also to other people and their imperfections. It’s like I’m rediscovering our shared, flawed humanity and I’m surprised at the increased compassion and goodwill I’m capable of as a result of that.

Earlier today, I was strolling along the banks of the river Thames between Bourne End and Cookham and I suddenly felt this deep sense of connectedness and belonging. I was fully present with my surroundings, the people I encountered and myself. I felt at peace and so alive that I could hardly hold back the tears. Incredible. I am so grateful for the ability to feel that way again.

It’s true what Brené Brown says in her book “Daring greatly”. We cannot selectively block out feelings. When we numb ourselves and avoid being vulnerable we don’t just water down the experience of negative feelings but also our ability to fully experience positive feelings. In order to be wholehearted again we need to allow both. We need to ‘dare greatly’ indeed but from my experience, I'd say, it's a risk worth taking.

Relatively normal

As part of my new job in which I’m responsible for managing an educational programme for young adults with autism, I’m spending quite a bit of time studying learner’s profiles, which describe how the autism or Asperger’s syndrome manifests itself in the young person and how he or she can be best supported. A lot of these young adults suffer from anxiety and some display obsessive-compulsive behaviours.

While some of their perceptions and behaviours may seem bizarre and unreasonable to us ‘normal’ people, I couldn’t help but think that we’re not that different at all: the mechanisms at work are just the same; it’s the triggers that are different and the fact that we think our triggers are justified – but are they?

To us, the changes from plan that send an autistic person into a state of anxiety seem ridiculous but don’t we respond in exactly the same way when things don’t go according to our plan? The difference is that we think our anxiety is justified because our perspective is wider in that we tolerate small changes but only freak out when ‘big’ things go wrong. An autistic person can be intolerant of even minor changes to the plan. However, it’s the same deluded thinking that takes place: the illusion that we can control the flow of life.

The anxiety and obsessive-compulsive behaviour of an autistic person are an expression of the fear of losing control and an attempt at gaining some control. Most of us share that fear and we also desperately try to get a handle on the madness that is life by trying to control things and creating some sort of security around us. We try to achieve this by clinging to possessions, money, people, approval etc. and freaking out if we lose them or someone interferes with them. Again not dissimilar at all to the behaviour of an autistic person if someone interferes with them going through their security-inducing routines.

But the reality is that we have no control. Life plays by its own rules and things hardly ever go according to plan. Most of us are not comfortable with this truth and suffer from the same anxieties an autistic person may display, we’re just better able to mask them and make their expression more socially acceptable.

So I just can't help but think that to someone who has fully realised the impermanence of life and the fact that things arise interdependently (i.e. mostly outside of our influence or control) us 'normal' people must seem like Rain Main. 

Inwards and onwards

Just over 5 more weeks to go now until Tony comes home. As the days are getting shorter I’m thinking that I’m really glad that Tony went during summer and not winter. It would have been a lot harder during winter as you tend to be stuck indoors a lot more, meaning more time to yourself, more time to think…

I’m still experiencing the aftershocks from the little earthquake that was Jamie Catto’s workshop. Combined with the fact that my main projection surface (Tony) is currently not available to help me blame someone else for how I’m feeling, I’m spending a lot of time looking at what’s REALLY going on inside my mind. It’s not easy. While I appreciate to be able to see myself with more honesty, it’s hard not to be judgmental. I discover that I am a master at ‘shoulding’ myself, i.e. telling me what I should be thinking, feeling and doing and thereby resisting and rejecting what I am actually thinking, feeling and doing. All that does is create tension and conflict, which totally zaps my energy. Hence duvet days are my biggest craving at the moment. I also escape into watching the telly, eating, retail therapy and the occasional glass of wine.

Luckily I finally started reading Marshall Rosenberg’s book about non-violent communication. It’s not only about how to communicate non-violently and empathically with others but also with oneself. In particular, it contains really useful advice on how to stop ‘shoulding’ yourself and I’m planning to do the related exercises this weekend. I also booked my place on a foundation course in non-violent communication in October. I know that that’s going to be another challenging weekend but it seems like a natural and necessary progression.

I am grateful for the opportunity to really see clearly how all the suffering I’m experiencing is indeed created by what’s going on in my mind and the stories I tell myself. It’s not just a Buddhist bumper sticker, you know.

Embodied lies

I had quite a full on, inspiring, mind-blowing and emotional weekend in Devon where I attended Jamie Catto’s workshop called “What about you?” If you want to find out more about Jamie and his workshops, please check out his website www.jamiecatto.com (and if you choose to book yourself on one of his workshops, please do mention my name as that might get me some free coaching from him ;-)

Some things that I discovered during this weekend weren’t new at all and the tools provided really helped me to unravel and transform some old baggage. What took me by surprise, however, was the discovery of my fear of rejection.

It’s amazing how we are able to kid ourselves to such a degree that we think we are a certain way when we are actually the opposite. I convinced myself that I was Miss Independent, “I don’t need anyone”, “I do what I like”, blahblahblah… Yeah right!

In actual fact (and I will spell it out here for the whole world to see so that it might cure me), I’m an approval junkie, I’m Miss Needy!

Now that I read it black on white, it doesn’t seem so far fetched anymore. It’s true. I love approval. I need approval and anything, that puts me in a position where people might stop loving me or approving of me, scares the shit out of me. The bitter pill to swallow was, that the one thing that scares me the most, is my own greatness (and I’m going to use exactly this word here because it sent shivers through my body as I thought of it and how people might react to it). Yes, my greatness, my amazingness, my awesomeness, me shining my light big and bright without worrying about how that might make other people feel. At the end of the day, isn’t that their business anyway?

It makes me angry to think that I am the sort of person that shrinks from being their best because they are worried about what other people might think and how they might react but oh it’s so painfully true. I can think back through my life of so many examples of how I made myself smaller than I was out of fear of rejection, when I took off the high heels and swapped them for flats so I wouldn’t look too sexy, when I dropped my grades in school so the cool kids wouldn’t reject the boffin, when I settled for the safe option that pleased others rather than the outrageous one. After all, who do I think I am? I can hear that question being asked of me when I was a child: “Do you think you’re special and better than others? Do you think you deserve better than others?” No, I don’t think I’m better than others but I think that we are all special and that we all deserve the best.

I think I also finally understand why I hunch and the cause for my neck and shoulder aches. I hunch because I try to make myself smaller than I am and my body knows that this is wrong and rebels against it with aches and pains. As I’m still struggling to come to terms with this discovery emotionally, I will start from the outside in and consciously try and stop making myself physically smaller than I am. According to everything I know that should have an inverted ripple effect and change how I feel on the inside.

I almost finished this post with: “wish me luck” but that would be seeking your approval again, wouldn’t it? So don’t wish me luck. Think that I’m big-headed, think that I’m arrogant, that I’m full of myself, annoying or whatever else it is you wish to think. I’m giving you full permission to disapprove of and reject me. See if I’ll care - literally - as I don’t know myself yet.