A Stranger in a Strange Land

by sophie. Posted on July 17, 2011

17 Jul

I can’t remember ever not feeling like I didn’t belong. My Mother always used to say ‘why can’t you be normal?’ But I didn’t want to be normal if it meant telling lies, being dishonest, playing games with others in order to subscribe to the British stiff upper lip and ‘what will the neighbours think?’ way of life. I rebelled, and fought and raged against the machine. I have for 45 years.

But it must be so peaceful being normal, going along with the flow, working for ‘the man’, believing what the media tells you, telling lies (big and small) so as not to offend people, eating meat, drinking alcohol, taking pills for headaches etc, eating fast food, drinking too much coffee every day etc.,

Just being like everyone else. Being ‘normal’. It would be great. Instead of all this wrestling in my heart and soul, this determination to live long and well and healthily, this aversion to putting toxins or poisons in my body so I can be ‘present’ and ‘real’ and ‘here’ and make the most of my time on this beautiful planet rather than deaden or numb or placate myself with platitudes and packaged food and pills.

Right now I long for such oblivion. I’ve got such a headache from all the tooth problems I have had recently and I’m so tired of being shattered and broken open as my heart opens finally and I see myself for who and what I have been all my life and I don’t like it, and there is nowhere to hide. A holiday in the form of alcohol or drugs is so tempting, but I guess I won’t, I’ll keep soldiering on and doing it my way (raw, unadulterated and conscious) and keep on keeping on.

I guess it’s rather like our birthing choices. The masses choose to do it medicated, pain free, in an institution and with as much intervention as possible. The small minority choose to do it naturally, at home, conscious, drug free and strong, powerful and raw.

I’m not alone. There are others, making the same choices, with the same beliefs and passions and commitment to fully experiencing their lives, themselves, this time round. But we are far flung and all walking lonely paths, ridiculed by the media, the masses and the mob.

So be it. At the end of each day and at the end of my life I have only myself to answer to . . . was I brave, was I strong, did I learn, did I change, did I feel, did I make a difference, did I love enough, is the world a better or worse place for me having walked it for some brief nanosecond in its history?

Right now the answer to those questions is not good or heartening – it is deep, dark and uncomfortable, but there is an egg of hope in my heart that I can face up to myself with a little more love soon.

At least I am delving and digging into myself, at least I am asking myself big questions, at least I am brave enough to see myself, to know myself and still be standing tentatively on the planet. Maybe if there were more people doing this work, the world would be a kinder place.

Don’t be a sheep, little lamb, be a shepherd!

The Darkest Day

by sophie. Posted on June 17, 2011

17 Jun

Ged and I had a huge row. And after we had time to think and review and lick our wounds we had a very painful conversation in which I really saw that my anger and rage and railing against everyone and the world is intolerable. So destructive. And I knew deep down in my being that I needed help. I have spent 14 years on the mat or on the punch bag and STILL I am angry. 15 years running and STILL I am angry. The door of my blame was swung wide open and I saw that it was only me to blame for all that was wrong in our marriage and my life. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

In fact, I was so devastated by the picture I saw of myself that I truly believed that there was no place for me in this world. That Ged and Ben would be better off and happier without me. I felt that I was so difficult to love, and so little loved by so very few, that somehow it would be kinder to all not to have to struggle with me and my emotional tornadoes any more. God knows I have long wanted a rest from them myself and have begged for the burden of this anger to be taken from me.

I was so raw but also still so frustrated with myself, the situation, Ben, everything. Shannon and Nathan came and to my great shame when Ben was (yet again!) putting stones down the pipe into the septic I snapped and grabbed him by one arm and hoisted him up in the air and then plonked him down on the ground 4 metres away. It was exactly the sort of thing my parents would have done. The only thing that was missing was the stinging smack. But the energy was the same. And that beautiful boy doesn’t deserve that, he deserves so much better than a mother like me. I see so clearly that he could have someone young and pretty and joyful and light filled. Instead he has got me. I have already damaged him, and I don’t want to any more. I want him to retain his crystalline goodness and beauty and his angelic love. Please don’t let him be polluted by me and all my bile and rage and spite.

So I went for a run all churning up inside with such self hatred and self disgust, such sorrow and pain, such self loathing, fear for the future and despair at myself and the chaos I have created. I only got as far as the Angle Creek ridge before I had to sit down and howl. And it was then that it became clear to me that there was no place for me in this world. It’s by far from the first time I have felt this but I hope it will be the last. I decided to go up the logging track above the Eyrie and find a tree. Of course it wouldn’t be today because I didn’t have a rope but at least I could make a plan. And so I stumbled with every step, blinded by tears and despair at this being I was whose only peace was in letting go of life and all the things that I love the most and have made me the most fulfilled and happy – my husband, my beautiful boy and my land.

When I got up to the top I found such incredible beauty and peace. Boulders and cliff faces tumbling down into a flora filled abyss, trickling streams from the deluges we have just experienced, and such serenity. And there was I in my darkness looking for the perfect place to put an end to my sorrow once and for all. Looking for a place to die.

The difficulties are immense. I didn’t want to damage or harm my beautiful angelic boy so best to do it while he is so young and won’t remember his Mama who loves him so much. I didn’t want to be found by anybody so that they would be traumatised by the experience. I didn’t want to hang. I had my lovely wool jumper around my waist and realisd I could use that so I fashioned a slip knot around my neck and boulder hopped looking for the perfect tree, the perfect spot. There were plenty of places. And my mind had become quite clinical and calculating about the whole thing. I can’t now believe that I walked around for so long with a noose around my neck. I don’t know what stopped me there and then but I decided to walk on to the area I had earlier envisaged as the ‘right one’. In the walking I removed the jumper from my neck and somehow found a little peace and respite. I think I thought ‘tomorrow’.

So I kept walking up the narrow track Judy had worn on her Vision Quest to find the open area she had told Ged about. It was there, on the other side of a fence, bathed in sunlight and sheltered from the wind. A little clearing in the forest. I found a spot and lay down to rest, exhausted.

And felt the peace and warmth of the sun penetrate my cold body and soul and light and life re-enter me. I felt healing angel hands of love and light soothe me, stroke me, heal me. And finally after all my pleading over the last few years (‘take this cup from me’) that this rage and darkness be removed from me, I saw and felt it lifted away.

And I felt peace. In my heart, in my soul, in every cell of my body and I knew I had the strength to return to my life, resolved that I and it would be different. I had seen myself in all my truth and it was a horrible sight. Somehow I had to pick myself up and piece together a way of being and living in spite of my horror at who I was and have the honesty to try and fabricate a new path out of the ravages of the old. Somewhere in me there is a goodness and a love and a heart and if I can hold on tight to those and if not forgive myself for all the rest but at least let them fall away and hope that others can forgive me. I have been the monster my mother called me in my teenage years, I see that now. (She was right! ) But just like an addict who finally wakes up to herself (and I am an addict, after all) and sees the damage and destruction she has wrought and goes forth to carve a new path, so too can I. I don’t know how. I feel very shaky – my world has been rocked to its foundations and there is very little of the old me I can take forward from this point on but I have to be brave enough to find a way. One day at a time. With an open and humble heart, an open mind and a willingness to see and embrace opportunities to change and grow and become a better, kinder, nicer, more loving, giving and whole person. For my own happiness, for my husband, my marriage, my son. And just hope that they can forgive me all the pain and sorrow I have caused them, please forget who I was, and love me enough to hold my hand as I walk forward seeking a new way to be.