An Oasis is a good place to pause and reflect. Each of my weeks provides ample inspiration in terms of topics; from coaching sessions, conversations with family and friends, my own reading, or one of the many podcasts I absorb when on the move. A topic will resonate with me early in the week and I get great pleasure from the iterative process of drafting, revising, polishing, and finalising each essay. Then comes the selection of a suitable photo, usually a product of yet another creative hobby of mine. I invite you take a little time out, to create your own six-minute oasis, find a comfortable chair, and read. You will hopefully find some inspiration from or a degree of identification in these Weekly Reflections. If you do, feel free to subscribe to this section. You will then receive future installments directly by email. Also, feel free to share the link among your circle of friends and associates. Finally, feedback and comments are always most welcome.
EnJOY!
One memory from this period is seeing a ghost at the door of my bedroom and feeling the despair of powerlessness in the face of such a terrible threat. When, on occasion, an older sibling or adult came into the dark bedroom and turned on a light, it became evident that the object of my fearful fantasies was a dressing gown hung on the door…
The second encounter was with a person who insists on seeing the glass half empty rather than half full. This lady is constantly battling a sense of doom and depression, talks incessantly about having to do this and having to do that, while passive-aggressively lamenting her lack of freedom. The hilltop at play here is that of the victim in a world apparently characterised by scarcity. This has been going on for years, with no visible improvement in the quality of her life…
One day, however, at the age of eleven or twelve, I left home on a Sunday evening, ostensibly to go to evening mass, but with the conscious intention of putting the contention to the test. Honestly, I waited for a while, petrified, for a bolt of lightning to strike me from the heavens. When that did not occur, there was a great sense of relief. My adventure could now really begin!
Addicts—which I’m convinced are all of us, in one way or another—have an intense resistance to change. We like predictability and control. That’s one of the reasons addicts find it easier to have a relationship with a process or a substance rather than with people. Unlike objects, people are unpredictable. Having a drink, making a purchase, or turning to our devices can change our superficial mood very quickly…
Watching very young children at play is a gratifying experience. When they feel safe and find themselves `in the zone´, there is no end to their creativity and spontaneity. They exude an air of vitality and freedom, both inspiring and infectious.
When was the last time I felt like this?
Even very early on, our relationship was challenging. I’m not sure what it was. Perhaps the cause of our initial difficulties lie in those earlies of days, beyond the boundaries of cognizant memory. One of the first things that stands out in my conscious recollections is her habit of shouting. She seemed to operate like a control tower for her ten children, doing her best to protect and coordinate them, regardless of location in or around our sprawling home, and simply turned up the volume, without altering her position, when the desired response was not forthcoming…
I am in no doubt that my mind’s proclivity to wander has been the cause of much of the suffering I have generated throughout my life, for my self and others. The harm that has resulted from this suffering has had the greatest impact on those closest to me; harming those we hold most dear in life is one of the most cruel ironies of the human condition…
Finally, on recognising that the illusion that `I had to do everything my self´ had been contributing to my malady, this too had to be jettisoned. This meant asking for help, not something that comes easily to me. I surrendered to the fact that I was in a trap which, though my own devices, I could not spring, and reached out for help. This I found in others who, through their own experience, knew my dilemma and had not only found a solution, but were, as an integral part of this solution, eager and ready to help the next folks…
Good Lord, defeat! This was the last topic I wanted to address at that moment. I felt my mental fingernails as they began to graze on the scabs of long-supressed internal wounds and would have preferred to zone out, in whatever way possible. But this therapist knew me a little by now. He knew that my intellectual pride would never allow me to duck the issue, now that it had been presented…
So far, so good, you might, or might not, say. But as we now all face the real existential threat of global warming, and having experienced the extensive divisive damage to our societies and the erosion of civil liberties resulting from the bungled political response to the first pandemic in a century, many of us have become more acutely aware of our interdependence, both in the human realm and, beyond that, with all of creation…
The most challenging years of life are, by definition, those early formative ones. Clinical research points to the fact that the fundamental wiring of our neural networks is almost completely laid down by our fourth birthday. These networks determine our temperament, our behavioral patterns, and belief systems well into adulthood. They will remain dominant until we consciously begin the practice of rewiring, of rewriting the script – if we are so lucky to realize the possibility of doing so…
When we experience pain, whether due to current issues (a bereavement, a setback, the break-up of a relationship, etc.) or the reactivation of an old episode of pain from the past (e.g. childhood trauma), a common reaction is to want to “unmake” the pain — to make it go away. This is a very human reaction and thus quite understandable. Who wants to experience pain? However, when we learn to shift from being reactive to being “response-able” (a practical definition of Emotional Sobriety), we can accept the painful stimulus as is, and then utilise it as a cue — usually in the form of a new patterns of thinking, feeling, and taking action — which will help us move forward in a healthy manner.
“Living in the echo chamber of my childhood” is how I would describe the unfolding process. The impacts experienced today are, in some way, reverberations of the “old ideas” initially formed in childhood. It is a beckoning for attention, to address those elements — hitherto hidden — that still require healing, the progeny of which are constrictive patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving which no longer serve me. This is where old beliefs about money once more appeared on my mental radar screen. I believe they can be traced back through the paternal line…
