On the seafront at Fuengirola, Costa Del Sol there is a huge statute in honour of Our Lady, Queen of the Sea – La Virgen Reina de la Mare.

Whilst stood before it, alone and in silence after my morning run, I was briefly overcome by this sense of vastness – the enormity of my capacity to be in the world.

It felt like a new sensation, but increasingly I have sensed within me a growing ability to think and be expansive which I think is a very key component of being able to live a life in the present.

This vastness in my mind, stood in front of this public honour to the Blessed Virgin Mary, translated to the vastness of the physical world around me which took my thoughts skywards, perhaps with my prayers to the firmament – the heavens – deep outer space.

It made me think of how in the past, I had lived and experienced my life so narrowly, and this meant that any turbulence I experienced, was intense and destructive and de-stabilizing because all my problems were all encompassing, overwhelming and made me act aggressively to those around me.

There, before the statue, I visualized myself surrounded by my family, my friends, my colleagues, my neighbours, the general public, the welcoming Spanish people and how the prominence of these relationships change at any given moment.

It is not that these relationships are fixed immovably in the same place – for example, a kindly word from a colleague at work, not a close family member, can bring that person in to my life, real close,  or the Spanish waiters in their kindness and attentiveness can claim an intimacy in the exchange of humour and generosity.

I thought about my faith, this I compared to the vastness of space, and in front of that statue I was grateful for it, because it felt to me that the spiritual dimension to my life increased my expansive capacity and gave it that quality of being limitless, never ending, vast, and amazing.

Gracias a Dios

My next blog will be: Pan

William Defoe

The horn of a car is an important piece of kit.

It’s purpose is to warn other road users of imminent danger – to get out of the way etc.

When I hear the sound of a car horn, I don’t immediately associate it with danger, on the contrary I associate it with impatience.

For me , the car horn, when used as a result of impatience,  is a great example of a person reacting to life as opposed to living their life in the present.

In Spain recently as I sat at a roadside cafe enjoying lunch with my wife, a sudden outburst of multiple car horns drew my attention to a queue of traffic on the road.

I could not see ahead to the source of the obstruction, and I suspect too that neither could the drivers of the vehicles who were honking their horns.

Perhaps it was a delivery, or a bump between two vehicles, or a frail person crossing the road or simply sheer volume of traffic.

The honking of the horn is a reaction to the world, and in a sense a judgement on it too which seems to be saying that my needs are more important than yours, my needs are being delayed, my needs are having to wait.

I have never been a driver who has honked my horn but before I get too smug, I am a driver who has reacted in the past by moaning and complaining and feeling stressed at the delays I have experienced of the road.

These too are a quasi-honking of the horn moments because they are my reactions to events that do not allow for life, community, otherness and peace.

I have tried very hard, through my journey to find self love, to be patient, to be expansive, to make the delays in my journey by road, an opportunity, (whilst I wait for the traffic to move again) for my inward journey of self love, to deepen that little bit more in that precious, present moment.

My next blog will be: Emotional Wellbeing

William Defoe

My holiday reading included the classic novel Tess of the d’Urbeville’s by Thomas Hardy.

The book is a masterpiece.

It was not perhaps the most ideal choice for a holiday read, the book is harsh and the life of poor Tess is tragic, hard and disturbing, and yet the description  of the work, environment and conditions of the rural poor in the last half of 19th Century Victorian England is microscopic in detail.

I was moved by the book in relation to my own circumstances.

The underlying sufferings endured by Tess ,were in part, the sad outcome derived from the motives of others, but at its heart was her own struggle to overcome judgement against herself for the her failings, and her adherence to a strict moral code which was internalized by her so very severely.

It was apparent that although characters around her were prepared to judge, they were prepared to accept her too, but she carried within her this strong sense that to be happy she had to be open about the mistakes of her past life.

I recognise the damage I have caused to my sense of well being and my capacity for being happy by the harsh inner critic which told me that my truth was not compatible with the social environment in which I live.

Although this social environment most likely has a variety of  opinions on my sexuality and my marriage, it is I believe prepared to accept me because I am loved and valued and cared for by all those who know me.

It is me, same as  Tess of the d’Urbeville’s, who was the harshest of judges on self, and unhappy because I tied myself up in a strict moral code, based on religious teachings which were narrowed by my own thinking, not by the teaching itself.

It is me, unlike Tess of the d’Urbeville’s who has overcome this rigid moral code, not by compromising or rejecting my faith, but by discovering and welcoming compassion  – compassion for self,

My next blog will be: Honking the Horn

William Defoe

Have you noticed how hi-tech crutches have become.

A light aluminium frame with a cuff for the arm below the elbow and a handle for which the injured person to grip.

The evening before I went on holiday, I was at the Saturday Evening Mass when I noticed a friend of mine hobble out to communion on a pair of these modern crutches.

I had this immediate pang of sympathy towards her, not having heard that she had suffered an injury and resolved to speak to her after Mass to find out what had happened.

As I sat watching her, and the reactions of concern and sympathy from other parishioners, I had this blast from the past of a memory of a boy in my class, aged about 8 years having broken his leg and coming into school on crutches.

His crutches we wooden with rubber stoppers on the bottom and a cushioned rest for under his arm pits as he moved himself along.

I remember feeling very envious of him, for all the attention he got and the special arrangements made to accommodate his needs, his parents coming into class to help him settle (a most unusual occurrence), the teacher being nice to him, fuss, fuss, fuss.

I don’t remember feeling sympathetic for his accident, perhaps I have forgotten this detail because I was always a nice, kind boy, but I do remember thinking how great it would be if I broke my leg, go crutches and all the fuss and attention that would come with it.

I think what came to my mind as I watched my friend a couple of weeks ago, was a sense that as a child, I craved attention which did not seem to be given to me.

I had a lot of dreams and thoughts and worries which never got spoken and I had a feeling that it would have been nice to have been heard, to have felt noticed.

That is not to say, that I was not loved and looked after, but in that generation, children just got on with it.

I want to do two things as a result of this reverie, make sure I listen to my own inner voice as I have started to do,  and also listen and actively seek what it is that my children want to say, no matter what it is.

I don’t need crutches to do that!

My next blog will be:   Tess

William Defoe

In recent years all the good times seem to have been spoiled by at least one episode of anger expressed by me in a moment of weakness, which then clouded the whole evening or day or even the holiday.

It has been my intention for many months now to try to hold in the anger, manage the discomfort, resist the urge to react.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that at some point in the future, I would come to a time in my life when there was no anger to suppress, no discomfort to manage and no need to resist an urge to react.

It happened last week in Spain.

Viva Espana!

Last week, it was like it must feel when all the preparations for a special day come together without a hitch.

This turn of events in my life, is a reward for my deep commitment and effort to change supported by those who love me.

It wasn’t a fluke, it was a real experience, because I was able to hold back the distractions and worries in my life and allow myself to relax.

My wife was real close to me, planting smackers on my lips as we walked along the promenade in beautiful Fuengirola – we were like teenagers, even though we are in our fifties.

I am increasingly drawn to a whole plethora of ways to live which draw upon the inherent strengths of my own character which for so many years has been swamped with a feeling that I could not cope.

It all seemed to come together last week in Spain, and I was able to come home feeling calm and relaxed and in a way ready for the realities of my life, which are not always easy, but better able to cope, better able to be present.

Viva Espana!

Adios!

My next blog will be:  Crutches

William Defoe

I am in one of the most energetic and mentally focused periods of my life at the current time.

I am focusing all of my efforts on trying to bring a new balance and understanding to the lives of my adult children which is fractious between them at times.

There seems to be an underlying theme in the complaints that we hear as their parents, that we have among them a favourite, or we fail to acknowledge failings in our children perceived in them,  by one or other of our adult children.

My wife has been experiencing some lows recently after being accused of taking one side or the other in the disputes which arise.

I have sat down with my wife and I have advised her in future to listen and say “Hmmm”

What I mean by this, is that she acknowledges what she has heard, but that she does not try to take the other point of view, just to be with it, to let the “injured” party see that she/we have listened.

Of course, then there is the bigger picture in all of this – our adult children don’t always get on and I have experienced a profound sense of failure over this in the past, and my wife cries, which I find unbearable.

Have we been perfect parents – No

Could we have done things differently – Yes

Hang on a minute William – we have done the best we could – we nurtured, loved, provided, supported them and we will continue to do so.

Whilst my wife is at the coal face of the disputes which arise, I have been talking to her about my role as strategist.

It’s about the long view I tell her, taking the time to change the dynamic by getting close to each on my adult children  – my wife already is – it is I that has the catching up to do.

My inward development has provided me with an array of “tools” to deploy in my battle to bring my family together, to heal wounds where I can.

My first tool is to acknowledge that I might fail – I accept now that I might fail in my endeavors

My next is expansive thinking – trying to enable my adult children to question their own judgments, to own them if they believe them to be right, to change them if they find on closer scrutiny that they are wrong, but to widen their perspective in the process.

I want to broaden the context of their thinking to be able to recognise what it is in them that causes the hurt, rather than assuming that it is a force coming from another party – for the most part I think the hurt comes from within – I want them to discover for themselves what that is and to confront it as I have done.

I want them to realise that whilst ultimately I cannot force my adult children to be friends, I want to be a part of their lives, my love is not conditional on a favourable outcome, however desirable that may be.

I want each of my adult children to feel safe in their relationship with me and their mother and I want to encourage them to build up a network of opportunity for speaking and listening to each other, to break down views they have of each other which are becoming more and more entrenched.

So I won’t be the great adjudicator in their disputes, I will be their dad, their mentor their friend.

Hmmm!

My next blog will be: Viva Espana!

William Defoe

I have a growing tendency to experience aspects of my life with a deep intensity.

The feeling is overwhelming and yet I am not floored by it because I recognise that I am experiencing my inner life with a growing and deepening clarity and calm.

On the surface, I continue with my life and interact with those with whom I come into contact, but below the surface I experience very intense connections to my soul.

This aspect of connecting with self-hood, requires my attention which I give it in periods of meditation and silence.

I have been encouraged by my coach to describe it, to be with it, to notice its effect on my body.

My recent intensity has been in respect of the feelings I have for my own sex. I have limited opportunities to describe this inner life to my acquaintances and this isolation does weigh heavily on me at times.

I experienced these feelings as a black orb, a moon like sphere passing through a dark space – a beautiful silky blackness, not a scary black.

In my quiet meditation this orb of intensity passes through the cavity of my chest and I feel restless, momentarily breathless with a shimmer of palpitations which calls to me for compassion, generosity and above all for love.

This intensity, whilst in a state of deep calm, speaks to me of the anger and frustration which these feelings brought forth openly into the world before I was able to welcome and accept and acknowledge these aspects of self.

My feelings of deep intensity are a call for me to acknowledge my truth, a call from within for courage, a call from within for me to consider providing for a greater openness of self to the world however difficult this might seem to be at the current time.

My next blog will be: Hmmm

William Defoe

When I was a ten year old child I wanted to be a backing dancer to the singers who performed on Saturday Night TV.

I was mesmerized by the way they flung themselves around the singer on stage, in their understated costumes, often having some direct interaction with the singer at the end of the song – holding them aloft or grasping at their legs (I think! – my memory is a bit sketchy on that one!)

I must have said, I wanted to be a dancer, because I know that my dad said, dancing was for sissy’s.

I have never had dancing lessons, I am in my fifties now, but I have rhythm  – I know that I had potential as an innate fact, but I lacked opportunity, I lacked courage, and I lacked belief.

I was driving home from work recently in silence, as I do, so that I can hear my inner voice and this thought came into my head, that if I had a second life, I would be a dancer – I’d train to be a ballet dancer.

As it happens, I have no concept of a re-birth, but what I do know is that my first life, my first chance is still going, I live, I am, I can be.

I smiled to myself, when I reflected that often, I say to my wife, when we are sat watching the TV in our night wear, “hey, look at them legs” (sorry reader – I am referring here to my own legs, although hers are nice too!).

I stretch out my leg to reveal the well formed muscle down the calf, stretch the foot outward and the big toe upward – It looks like a ballet leg.

Sometimes, when I am stood in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, I swing my leg backwards and forwards, holding the leg outward in front of me with heel turned up and foot and toe extended – it looks to me like a ballet pose.

These actions speak to me of at least trying to connect with what is, even at a basic level, at least I try to connect to what is.

I know that it is perhaps a tad too late to play the Prince, in Swan Lake, but it is not too late for me to experience ballet steps.

My next blog will be: Intensity

William Defoe

Last Sunday morning, as I reclined in bed, holding in both of my hands a big cup of tea, a question came into my head – shall I stay in bed?

This question really translated to – shall I skip Mass today?

I never miss going to Mass on the Sabbath day, so why should such a thought come into my head and have some semblance of attraction, if I was to answer in the affirmative – yes, I will stay in bed and in doing so, I shall skip going to Mass today.

The good part of the question, is that I am asking the question, and I can see that an element of my journey to live in the present is to be looser in the application of the choices I make in my life – to have a greater capacity to wonder at the possibilities of otherness in my life.

In answering the call from within to stay in bed, and stay away from Mass, I could most certainly have expressed this as a positive response of my growing capacity to be responsive in the moment (not reactive, but responsive) to the call of my soul.

I most likely will be a “cradle to grave” Catholic.

My belief in Jesus Christ is pretty much an integral part of my identity, as is my same sex attraction, and the love I have for my wife and children, no matter how hard I push against all of this at times.

I have expressed my faith in Christ through the practices and rituals of the Catholic Church all of my life and it is through the expression of the sacraments and the teachings of the Catholic Church,that I feel the fullness of that expression of my faith, despite the problems experienced by the human elements of the institution.

I recognise that in my search to express my truth, I do not have to choose between one element by subjugating another, I must try to be open to the fullness of my truth to feel fully alive and present in my heart.

I drink my tea, it has gone slightly cold, what with all my musing, I get out of bed, shower and get ready for Mass just like I do every week.

I am satisfied, that I have asked the question  – this came from within – I am satisfied that I answered the question – this came from within – I am living in the present!

Shall I stay in bed today?

Yes, I will for a little while, and then I will attend to the spiritual needs of my soul.

My next blog will be: Ballet Steps

William Defoe