On Friday evening, as I walked home alone late into the evening from a visit to a pub with friends, I inadvertently stood on a snail.

The first I was aware of its presence on the path was when I heard the nauseating crunch as the tiny shell disintegrated under the weight of my foot.

As I continued my walk home, I felt a tad saddened that I had been responsible for crushing the snail. If I had seen it on the path in front of me I would have circumvented it, to allow it to continue on its own precarious life journey.

It is not that I have not cleared snails and slugs and other gastropods from my flower beds in the garden during the year, but this crushed snail was doing no harm to me or my plants.

As I walked along I thought about how so often in my life there has been collateral damage to my actions which had not been intended or foreseen.

This impact of mood swings and anger and controlling behaviour which has perpetuated my life until recently, caused that same nauseous feeling as the I experienced in the crushed snail.

I didn’t mean to hurt the snail, but nevertheless I did- most likely it was life ending for it.

I have tried in recent years to find control from within to steer a course, so that unintended collateral damage to my loved ones can be avoided.

As I sense the shift in mood in response to a provocation, I notice it and I gain a few precious moments to think, to take evasive action by :

staying silent

or by making my point calmly

or by allowing the other party to speak

or by supporting choices that others make

or by keeping my opinions to self

or by making a note to self to prepare for a more opportune and measured response at a future date

In these ways, I avoid a life of crushed snails and provide a safe and welcoming environment (away from my flowerbeds) for them to thrive.

My next blog will be: I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane

William Defoe

Occasionally I experience feelings of intense disappointment.

It is a feeling within me of hopelessness and lost aspiration and future hopes seem futile to hold.

These feelings have arisen within me in respect of the choices which my adult children have made.

When I feel hurt and disappointed, I have been able, in recent times, to recognise the shift which I have undergone, because, it is, as if, this feeling is coming from somewhere else, rather than from the centre of things.

In recognising this shift, I am reminded that my feelings in the present moment are a call from the past, of an old narrative in which I exercised power and control over their lives, albeit with love.

I think I just love them too much, and I have such a strong opinion on their worth to me in the world, that anything I perceive to be short of that ideal in their lives, provokes within me a sense of helplessness.

In ceding control to them over their life choices, I have handed over power and control and authority to them, and in recognising that shift I am able to feel into a strong sense of satisfaction, because the truth which has not shifted, is my love for them.

My next blog will be: Vanity

William Defoe

In the preface to his truly amazing book, Pillars of the Earth, Ken Follett talks about the problem of characterising a celibate monk, Prior Philip within the novel.

He says, “the obvious drama would be that of a man fighting a terrible battle with lusts, but I could not work up any enthusiasm for that theme. I grew up in the 1960’s and my heart is always with those who deal with temptation by giving in to it. In the end I made him one of that minority of people for whom sex really is no big deal”

My first observation to this quote is how I, to some extent, have fought a terrible battle with lusts for most of my adult life through my intense attraction to my own sex, and I am a person for whom sex really is a big deal.

This concept of giving in to temptation as a method of addressing the needs of the heart, came as a surprise to me.

Perhaps the statement made is addressed to those who are free to give in to temptation, perhaps not, but for me to have done so would have risked the happiness of another, my wife, who married me in good faith nearly thirty years ago.

In the four years since I told my wife the truth about the feelings I have for my own sex, whilst still feeling an intense love for her, I have been able to explore what giving in to temptation might mean in the context of my life.

It means that I should no longer feel a sense of guilt for the thoughts I have, they are my own.

I should no longer suppress within me or reject the truth of my feelings but embrace them, love them, accept them as something which gives my life added special significance rather than for them to be a source of deep shame.

These recent years have been liberating for me as my mind’s capacity has grown to accommodate my marriage, my sexuality and my faith.

They have also been challenging because my years of struggle in isolation and fear over these issues have left a legacy of hurt which has been hard to overcome.

Dealing with the reality of my truth and expecting my wife to cope with it has been a challenge for her too, because I cannot unsay to her my truth.

I must assure her that her love for me is the overriding sustenance which I need in my life and that to give in to temptation in a literal sense to my sexuality, would not be in the best interests of my heart.

My next blog will be: Recognising Shift

William Defoe

As I sat at the back of the beach at Paignton last week, painting a watercolour of the beautiful scene before me, I heard a woman say to her friend, (neither of whom I saw, as they walked above me on the promenade), “oh, what it must be like to be able to just sit and paint like that”

I was slightly abashed because I do not consider myself to be skillful in my art, but what I do value is the solitude I experience within my own thoughts as I try to represent the scene in front of me in watercolour.

A few moments later I heard another voice shout out from the back of me “That’s awesome Mum!” followed by a “Wow”

I turned around, whilst still seated, to see a young boy of about 10 years of age with his Mum, praising my work.

I felt such gratitude for his kindness and I said to him “Thank you, you are most kind, but I am just an amateur and you too could do the same if you acquire some paper, paint and water”

After they had left, I felt disconcerted by the judgement I had made on myself about my lack of skillfulness after he had just praised me.

In truth, I was pleased that my work had inspired the enthusiastic reaction from him and perhaps it will inspire him to paint too.

As for the lady who had passed by and suggested that I had some claim to paint over her, I wish I could have said to her in that moment, which I say to her now – just do it, do what your heart desires and be content with the doing, not the outcome.

My wife and daughter returned from their morning coffee and my wife said to an almost complete work “that’s good” to which I replied, “you can save your breath on anything less than an awesome!, but thanks” (joke).

My next blog will be : Giving in to Temptation

William Defoe

Whenever I am on holiday, I take every opportunity I can, to look at the sea.

The movement and sounds of the waves as they crash onto the sea shore and the view of the distant horizon mesmerize me and fill me with a sense of awe and wonder and peace and calm.

I usually negotiate with my wife, at least one day of walking along the coastal paths where I experience the joy of the undulating landscape with the sea always at my side as I walk along, thinking, praying, being, wondering, repairing and loving my injured soul.

Last week, I walked along the coast in South Devon with joy at the familiarity I have for this beautiful coastline  from Torquay through Paignton to Brixham which never fails to assist the healing process within my tormented soul.

As I traveled back to Torquay on the ferry across Torbay, I experienced something new within me of the view of the land from the sea.

The coastal view was opened up before me to reveal all of the hidden nooks and coves and cliffs which had been hidden from my view as I had walked along.

I had this sense from my seat on the ferry, of being able to recognise how far I had walked, but also how much had been hidden from my view.

The view of the land from the sea enabled me to bring a more rounded and deepening perspective to the experience which I had enjoyed whilst walking and thinking.

I think this concept of the view of the land from the sea has something important to say to me (and perhaps you too!) about the importance of never assuming that what we see is the full picture.

There is always the possibility of looking afresh at familiar problems and worries and anxieties which restrict my / your capacity to feel safe, by searching within our souls for a new dimension, which will widen our capacity to move forward, or to accept the challenges we face.

I think next year, I might benefit from flying over this bit of coastline, but until then I’ll imagine what it is like because when we put our minds to it, we can be anywhere.

My next blog will be: That’s Awesome Mum

William Defoe

On the English Riviera in South Devon a steam train runs trips for holidaymakers along the beautiful coastline from Paignton to Kingswear.

I like to watch the train as it puffs up the slight incline from Goodrington to Saltern Cove and stand on the little picturesque bridge as first, the sound of the engine, is followed by the visible evidence of its presence in the form of the puff of steam above the trees.

As the steam train comes into full view, such a sight makes my heart leap, and I feel somehow deeply grateful to be witness to such a scene.

The purpose of writing this blog comes in the next moment when the passengers on the train wave to those of us standing on the bridge, and we wave back arms flailing in the exaggeration of the movement to make sure that we are seen.

This connection with strangers, giving pleasure to each other by acknowledging the privilege of being able to travel on the steam train and watch it go by, in the most beautiful of settings was a highlight of my holiday.

As I walked away from the little bridge after the last passengers had disappeared from view I felt overcome with the emotion at the whole experience, and how I had welcomed the brief joyous connection with people unknown to me in the euphoria of the experience.

It is this memory of my holiday which has, and will, endure following my return home to the routine of the working week.

It is this experience, which lifted and connected with my inner self – my soul and I thank God for the steam train and for the enthusiasts who keep them in working order for the pleasure of holidaymakers.

My next blog will be: Land from the Sea

William Defoe

After visiting a zoo, my daughter recalled with laughter, how a little boy had said to his mother, out loud, when asked to make a wish at a wishing well “I wish I could go home”, his sister had wished for a fairy dress.

My daughter had been very amused by the frankness of the honest wish.

In a recent visit to see my coach, I too spoke out with frankness that there are times when being married feels intolerable to me and that I have a deep seated need for a male companion.

At face value, these may seem to be an honest wish, but I think that assessment of my words is too simplistic.

What I think is valid, is the importance of the opportunity which I and the little boy were given in different settings to speak out our feelings in the moment.

It is quite possible that the boy had become bored at the zoo, only to be taken off into the tiger enclosure moments later to be mesmerized by these magnificent creatures – who knows?.

In my case, speaking out deep longings in the hearing of someone else helped me later to shape what in fact my honest wishes are.

I want to remain married and honour my vows because I love my wife, but I need more and more to have my homosexuality acknowledged.

There is a significant part of me that would benefit from speaking to someone who lives the same experience as me as a married gay man – I think that is the honesty of my wish.

My next blog will be: Steam

William Defoe

Our adult daughter joined us for a few days at the end of a recent holiday.

She observed last year that I seemed quieter and calmer, but this year she described my periods of silence in a comment to her mother as “Dad’s zoned out again”

Internally her words sounded and felt in my chest cavity, where I feel bodily my mental pain, like a judgement, but I was able to discern that they were merely an observation because no malice was attached to her words.

This aspect of what my adult daughter describes as “zoned out” is an important element of my practice to be with self, inwardly reflecting whilst outwardly taking in the world around me even to hearing the conversations around me on the beach.

I have reflected that this ability to be “zoned out” protects me, and those whom I love, from my previous tendency to have to have my say on everything whilst being continually on the look out for behaviours or opinions on which I could offer / dictate my correction, my view, my opinion, my way  – it was exhausting.

Being “zoned out” means that I can hear and see things which I don’t necessarily agree with, or perhaps I might wish were different, and I can reflect and wonder at the difference between me and my adult children and ponder on the origins and the influences which shape those differences.

My inner reflection enables me to offer my own opinion, if the opportunity arises, or if I particularly feel that my words could help them in some difficulty at a more appropriate time in the future.

If this more reflective, kinder, less reactive person is what I have become as a result, in part, of being “zoned out” then I am happy for this change in me to have been observed and commented on whilst we were on holiday.

My next blog will be: An Honest Wish

William Defoe

As I entered an unfamiliar shower on holiday, the water turned cold and then extremely hot in almost an instant causing me to flinch and to direct the shower head towards the tiles away from my flesh.

For a few moments, as the water washed down the tiles at the side of me, I attempted to stabilize the controls until I was confident that the water was coming out of the shower head at a constant temperature which my body could tolerate.

I was struck, as I showered myself in the warm water, how in the past my temper was easily compared to a shower head, that is in being hot headed and angry followed by sulking and coolness and regret.

Like a shower head my temper and sulking was directed at those whom I love as if they were a tiled wall able to tolerate my behaviour.

As I dried myself, I recognised how far I have come on my journey to love myself and how my own inner temperature is far better regulated in my life at this time.

I am thankful because I think that for most of the time, those whom I love are happy in my company and no longer have to wear a heat shield to protect themselves, like a tile, from my mood swings.

My next blog will be: Zoned Out

William Defoe