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!
In the exuberance of youth, we had set out to change the world. Now, having reached midlife, we realise that the only person we can change is the one clad in our own skin, while recognising that that change, once manifested, may affect healing, growth, and development among those with whom we interact, one day at a time, if we are willing to share what we find…
Not a year goes by now, without news of someone from my wider circle of friends or acquaintances struggling with life to the degree that they would consider what looks like an escape hatch, an easier softer way. Or indeed, the sad consummation of such plans. Every time this happens, I am devastated. The devastation comes from the mere inkling of the suffering the protagonist must have been going through when the decision was made and carried out. Such incidences also point clearly to our own vulnerability. If she or he could be pushed that far, could we be next?
The outward focus on people, places, and things – as the presumptive wellspring of the love and sense of belonging we so strongly yearn – this erroneous attitude is a major cause of subsequent suffering in later life. The process of recovery is primarily a process of inner work on self. We do not recover to change our parents, our partners, or the world. We recover to grow in awareness. We recover to develop a new pair of glasses through which we view the world more objectively. And we recover to establish and practice new behaviours. In short, we do the work of recovery that we might be changed…
In doing this work, we cannot dodge the old wounds and thus re-feeling the original pain. That is the difficult part. In exploring my family dynamics, it is important to acknowledge the loving kindness that pervaded my family of origin, in conjunction with the systemic dysfunction described below. Many precious gifts were created and shared through this kindness. Wounds are part and parcel of the human experience. It was not for lack of kindness that wounds were inflicted. It was, rather, lack of awareness…
When I apply this approach, it quickly becomes clear that the accusation of cowardice is false. There have been many occasions and situations in life where great courage on my part had been the essential factor in pulling through. For any teenager to accompany his terminally ill father in his final journey takes courage. Getting out of town – in my case emigrating at the age of 19 – takes courage. It takes courage to ask for help, to do the work of recovery. It takes courage to set healthy boundaries. It takes courage to follow one’s bliss. It takes courage to share such insights as those found in my writings..
This brings me to the rheostat. On emerging into adulthood, mine seemed to be missing. In recovery, we address such issues. Once we abstain from the cruder forms of emotional self-medication, we can begin to learn to self-regulate. My early years were undoubtedly overshadowed by what led to the panic attacks described above. Therapists have suggested it might have been a traumatic experience, physical, emotional, or spiritual, in my early years. The honest answer is that there is still no clear answer…
Recent discoveries in neuroscience, especially regarding the plasticity of the brain, have provided the welcome reassurance that these default scripts can be modified and even overwritten, right though to old age, correcting the earlier erroneous assumptions that we were forever stuck with what formed in the first seven years…
It is no wonder, then, that contrary to the initial intention, those of us affected become less and less vibrant over time, as if the life were being sucked out of us. Obsession supplants imagination, compulsion replaces creativity, fear displaces joy, connection makes way to alienation, and the `being´ in `human being´ begins to wither on the vine. Recovery becomes possible when we hit bottom, when we become so sick and tired of being sick and tired…
Many of us carry a bag of different lies around with us until we begin to take stock of our lives. We may, therefore, have two or three main Saboteurs which are the cause of most our problems. We each have a unique Saboteur profile. Just as it is necessary and beneficial to handle more overt losses by grieving in a healthy manner, – rather than avoiding, numbing, and dissociating – we learn in recovery to practice loving ways to grieve our childhood losses and the alienation of Self…
For me, the key question is what impact these achievements have had on our happiness. Are we as happy or even more happy than our predecessors? I have my doubts. Rather than get into a competitive debate about today and the `good old days´, my interest revolves around one important question: In a world which values freedom above all other human characteristics, are we really free?
Imagine a village in the foothills of a major mountain range, a village where time has appeared to stand still, bisected by a river, always cool from the glacial melt, framed on each bank by snowfields in winter and bright, iridescent, buzzing meadows in summer. Life was carefree and easy in this village until a strange phenomenon arose. First, a lone body washed up on the edge of the pool right in the middle of the hamlet. The inhabitants were perplexed and shaken. This had never happened in living memory. The corpse, which could not be identified, was respectfully buried in accordance with the cultural mores and the villagers returned to their daily routines…
A case was described whereby a struggling client — a very successful man by all the criteria of our society; self-made millionaire, respected in the community, handsome, fit & healthy, seemingly intact family life, vibrant social network, etc. — was having difficulties in his “empty nest” marriage because he felt that his wife was not displaying sufficient willingness to have sex with him whenever he (apparently often) wanted. “Oh boy! “, I thought, “this is not new to me.” Thinking back to my VIP (Very Important Patrick) days, when I was proud of the fact that my average working week surpassed sixty hours, when, as an executive in a multi-national corporation, I racked up many hundred thousand air miles, it was clear to me that I, too, had fallen prey to the “sacrifice indulge syndrome”…
In her book, Arendt notes that, by stoking tribal nationalism, any nation of people can be persuaded that it is surrounded by “a world of enemies”. This paranoid state then makes way for the ideology that states that a fundamental difference exists between this people and all others. It claims its people to be unique, individual, incompatible with and better than all others, thereby excluding the very possibility of a common family of humankind, a sisterhood and brotherhood of all humans, indeed of Creation as a divine whole. For such a ploy to succeed, the innate human sense of community (among peoples) and belonging (to the wider sphere of the natural world) needs to be smashed…
