I have a soft spot for all things French.

The French language, spoken or sung, is very beautiful and to be compared to nectar,  a poetry on the ears, exquisite!.

As I drove home tonight, I listened to a song in French called “Je Chante”  by Charles Trenet which is a track which featured on the soundtrack of the film  “A Good Year”

At the time of listening, I could not recall what the meaning of “Je Chante” was, but it means “I Sing”

What struck me most of all whilst listening to the song, was the idea of enjoying something which I do not fully understand.

I had a sense of feeling that it is good to appreciate and accept the knowledge I have and not to be unduly worried at the gaps which limit my full understanding in the present.

It was enough for me to know, that I was enjoying the sentiment in this lively song, clearly enhanced by the melody, and that my lack of understanding was not a barrier to an experience of pleasure and a feeling of intense joy.

As it said in the song:-

“Je suis heureux” 

“I am happy”

My next blog will be: The Significance of Thorns

William Defoe

Of course, I could Google the title of the song and get the English translation, but I have no intention of doing so.

It was sufficient for me to connect strongly to the French words, and the French audience whom I am sure, would have understood the song, and that is enough for me to know.

I can’t know everything, but I can appreciate that others somewhere do know the bits I don’t and

I am currently experiencing a very busy period at work with multiple “important” deadlines to deliver.

I caveat the word “important” because my job involves financial information, which is business critical, but not a matter of life or death!.

I have been able to learn, over the years, how I best meet the important tasks so that they are delivered on time, and although, I work hard, I manage to maintain a good work life balance for most of the time.

I have noticed recently, how colleagues of mine, who appear to me to be struggling to deliver their objectives, tell me how they work long hours, work from home in an evening and / or at weekends and curtail holidays.

This seems to me be a recipe for failure, because it could be a symptom of bad planning, poor prioritization, poor delegation and poor communication.

I have learned, that I am always under a certain amount of pressure at work, and that is what comes with the role and responsibilities I carry and it’s effect is motivational,  but if I find that I cannot sleep because of work related anxiety, my thoughts turn to “who else” rather than “when else”

Late last week, I had to work from home most of the evening. My inner voice (critic) is telling me throughout that this is a symptom of failure.

My response to that voice was that, my opinions are a guide, not a straight-jacket, and that in this instance delivery depended on being flexible until I could put in place the support I needed from my team to deliver.

My next blog will be: French Song

William Defoe

I have been fascinated by the various ways in which my mind encourages me to make excuses in an effort to detract me from the goals I have chosen to pursue.

With my choice to run each morning for thirty minutes before work I seem to be constantly managing excuses which start even before I get out of bed – sometimes even before I get into bed the night before!

As follows:-

• I think you night be coming down with a cold
• The forecast is for ground frost tomorrow
• It was really cold yesterday
• You might slip and fall
• Its dark down that track at this time of year
• You’ve been twice this week already, have a day off
• You’ve had an offer of sex – no brainer!
• Have a lie in
• Will you be at that meeting on time
• Its cold
• I’m tired
• You were late to bed last night
• etc etc etc

There are occasions when I will succumb to an excuse and I will decide not to run, but these are rare occurrences for me.

One of my goals has been to embed and change my behaviour and in order for me to do this I have had to make those changes a routine, not an option.

At this time of year, in the dark and cold each morning it is quite hard to remain focused, but my running is for me an important meeting of two halves of self.

On the one hand, my need to feel the strength of my body increase and to overcome the tired muscles and heavy legs and freezing fingers and thumbs which are present in the early stages of my run.

These discomforts are offset half way through the run, with a warming up and a motion which allows me to be with my soul – to pay attention to my emotional needs which are in tune, for that brief time, with the motion of my body.

So, no excuses!

My next blog will be: The Effort Behind Delivery

William Defoe

A key part of my journey to accept and love self and live in the present  has been to look after the needs of my body at the same time as developing the understanding and capacity of my mind.

I have been surprised how an emerging facet of the change I am undertaking, has been around my increasing focus on managing my intake of food and drink both physically and mentally.

[I should say straight away that I am not on a diet,and any  weight loss I have achieved has been, I think, through exercise].

In a physical sense I consume food and drink in fairly disciplined surroundings, at a table and in silence, unless I am fortunate to have company.

The silence is the mind bit of the food and drink issue.

The food and drink are supporting my physical needs, but the mental space which accompanies this process is a valuable opportunity for me to reflect and be calm.

I find that this approach enables me to consume food, slowly and rhythmically which is nutritional for both my body and my mind.

My adult children, and occasionally friends, send me “snap-chats” (photos that last 10 seconds before disappearing into the ether!) of plates of food or glasses of wine or beer.

This is supposed to convey to me that they are having a good time in whichever restaurant they are in, or perhaps, if they are making a new dish for the first time which they want to show me.

I love getting the snap-chats – I do, because I feel connected to them, but not with the food and drink, but with my children.

In reflective mode, I would prefer the food and drink not to be put centre-stage in the communication, important as it is, because for me, they are at the centre  – it is with them in mind that I journey forward in the present, to be the best I can.

My next blog will be: Managing Excuses

William Defoe

The Catholic Church is celebrating a Jubilee Year of Mercy, opened by Pope Francis late last year and ending on 20 November 2016.

“Mercy” – at its heart, has the concept of forgiveness and from that follows the potential for healing, reconciliation and peace, with self and with others.

I have suffered so much from recurring heartache from guilt over my past aggressive and controlling behaviour towards those whom I love most.

Even though, I am in a process of development, the past can cause pain, especially  if I recall how I used to be, and how I could still be, without the inner determination and resolve to be different, and the love and support and guidance and encouragement of others.

I have had to learn to be merciful to  myself as a first step to being accessible for the mercy which I hope will come from others whom I have hurt in the past -and it has come is small signs in recognition of the changes I have made to my life.

I think that my capacity to be merciful has grown immeasurably as I have explored and studied the origins of my suffering.

My next blog will be: Food and Drink

William Defoe

In the downstairs WC of my home, hangs a painting of a harbour, dominated by a fishing trawler on the quayside with small pleasure boats in the foreground anchored to the sandy harbour bottom at low tide.

I have seen this picture obviously many times (our coats are on hooks in this small room too!) and a few days ago, I noticed a small yellow boat beached on its side, which I cannot ever recall having noticed before.

I am certain that I must have seen that yellow boat in that picture many times before, but it is the first time that I recall actually noticing it.

This small revelation of art in a familiar frame, is a metaphor for the development that we undertake when we journey with self, to a place of understanding and self acceptance and self love.

I like the image of the many yellow boats which have accompanied me during my life, unnoticed, or better described, as not understood, coming to their own as the tide comes in and bobbing up and down at high tide fully present in the picture of my life.

Far from being, unacknowledged or unseen, I now take out my yellow boat from the harbour into the sea to explore the canopy of the coast and the distant horizon before returning to the harbour again, safe, before low tide.

My next blog will be :  Mercy

William Defoe

Just over three years ago, I told my wife that I had a same sex attraction and that whilst I had never been unfaithful to her, my feelings had wreaked havoc on my emotional state of mind. [Earlier posts explain this in more detail].

We came to an agreement, and Here is the Deal!.

• We love each other and we both want to stay married.
• I will not pursue a gay lifestyle.
• I will seek help to enable me to accept my feelings.
• I will be more open with her about my feelings and I will be more responsive to her feelings too.
• We will move forward from past troubles and we will have a calmer relationship, less arguments, less shouting, less sulking, less control.

In the intervening years. I have made a huge effort and progress in my acceptance of self. and my focus on self. as a means of presenting differently to my family and to the world.

I still carry the emotional scars of the past, in fact we both do, and occasionally old issues re-surface and have the potential to cause us both pain.

Last week, I sensed that my daughter was unhappy and in discussing my concerns, my wife began to relate the effect that my past behaviour had had on them – it hurt me to hear it.

It hurt, because I have acknowledged the past, and what I needed was someone to bring some balance,  not a judgement,  and in that moment the whole “Here’s the Deal” felt hopeless and unworkable.

After a difficult couple of days, we were able to talk again and I addressed directly the accusation that my focus on my own development is self obsession.

I addressed this by explaining clearly why I believe my development is not a self obsession:-

• I am calmer
• I am less controlling
• I am more self disciplined
• I have very many resources to support me when I am feeling low
• I accept my sexuality
• I accept that my adult children want to make their own decisions/choices which may differ from my own.
• I am less dogmatic in my faith, but still faithful
• I have withdrawn from been news-centric
• I watch less TV
• I exercise and I have lost weight
• I have reached out to my siblings for a network of support and broke down the barriers I had erected between us.
• I have separated my work from home to establish a good work-life balance
• I have given up my voluntary work to make me more accessible to the family and to my wife.
• I paint, I read, I write my blog, I keep a journal, I write a diary.
• I drink less alcohol.
• I take my development and guidance very seriously and I make strenuous efforts to apply the learning to my life
• I try to live in the present, being mindful of the past and aware that future anxieties are mirrors of the past not reality of what will happen.
• I spend more time with my elderly parents

But I did something else on Sunday which moved us forward in a big way:-

• I made it clear that I had failed in the past in some respects as a husband and a father and that this failure has had an effect on my wife and children which I cannot deny.
• I could not cope with aspects of my parental responsibilities.
• I could not cope with pressures of work and family and financial responsibilities.
• I could not cope with life choices that my teenage children made which were different to my own.
• I was driven for my children them to succeed where I had not and this put undue pressure on them and stressed them out.
• I could not cope in relationships with my parents and siblings.
• I had a tendency to dislike people.
• It was my fault – not yours – I am conscious of my past failings but not so good in remembering the good things I did.

I can’t change the past, but I can change the future and that is what I am investing my development in doing just that.

I asked for something else:

• Love and understanding and recognition for my efforts to change
• A narrative of the present and the future not a crushing judgement on the past.
• A balanced view of the past when aspects need discussion – it was bad here, but look how good it was there.

It looks like I might have got myself a new deal!

My next blog will be: Yellow Boat

William Defoe

On Friday night after going to bed, I had to get up because of what I can only describe as extreme agitation which manifests itself from my head into my body through restlessness, scratching, itching, deep sighing, and tension in the muscles of my hands, calves and feet.

It is nothing short of brutal anguish.

This blog is not about the cause of it, it is about the beauty of it, and how I am learning to be grateful for it because, for me:-

• it is a route to change
• it is a route to conversation
• it is a route to openness
• it is a route to a decision
• it is a route to being present.

On getting downstairs, I sat in the darkness, having chosen not to put on the lights, and what I wanted most of all was to cry, but the tears resolutely refused to come.

It is a feeling of being overcome with the faults and failings of the past, it is converted into a fearful hopelessness of the future and it hurts like hell.

As I sat there in the dark, I was feeling like one of the characters of JK Rowling’s Harry Potter Books when the Dementors** came and sucked all vestige of happiness, hope and peace from their victims and left them soulless (see below).

This overwhelming feeling  of having failed as a husband, as a father, as a son as a brother as a man was pushing up within me, from the depths of my struggle and turmoil, a voice from deep within which wanted my attention.

Strangely, even though I felt dreadful, I was conscious that I could bring this feeling to an end by switching on the lights, or putting on the TV or Radio or Music to distract me from my thoughts, but I did not want to – I wanted to hear this voice from within.

I did wonder about taking some medication to calm me down, but for me, it is a harsh cure because it forces the body to rest without addressing the needs of the mind (I would have been more likely to take this route if I had a day ahead of me).

So, I stuck it out in a state of anguish, alone, in the dark for an hour and I let it all fly in my head, trying desperately to catch the narrative of hope that was fighting to emerge within me from the din.

After a while, I lay down, I was calm, the seeds of an answer to my call were sown amidst the anguish and I was still.

After a further while, feeling cold in the unheated space, I got up to go back to bed, tired, exhausted both physically and emotionally, but calm and as I did so, I wiped away the tears that had come unnoticed and alone to my eyes, and was I thankful for their appearance at last.

My next blog will be: Here’s the Deal

William Defoe

In the years in which we brought up our children, my wife and I had an agreement not to say “no” to our children, when a “yes” was possible.

In simple terms, we wanted to do what we could to support their needs without unnecessarily frustrating them.

I have been conscious of my poor response to having the word “no” applied to my needs and hopes and dreams and my inability to cope with it in my life.

It is a hard word to take, and it has in the past caused me great consternation and anguish when I have interpreted and internalized the rejection of my hopes for my adult children’s futures being rejected by them.

For a few years, I reacted badly to their life choices and this lead to a situation worse than the hearing of “no” – it lead to avoidance and separation, and what seemed to be irreparable damage, to my relationship with my adult children.

I have been focused in my development in recent years, in noticing the times when I have allowed “no” to be said to me.

I have noticed that it still has the potential for conflict and unhappiness.

I am making strenuous efforts to avoid the discomfort of the past, and learning to respect that “no” is not a judgement on me as a father – rather, it is an expression of their  independent thinking and an intelligence, which I can take credit for having fostered in their lives.

I have been guided to understand that if I want to hear a “yes” to my requests, I need to be able to create a space in which “no” can flourish without bitterness and resentment which I know ultimately leads to separation and pain.

A few years ago, much to my disappointment, my teenage daughter stopped attending Mass. The pain this caused to me was searing even though the pervading culture of her choice, in her world, makes this normal and acceptable.

Even the Catholic Church seems to accept that teenagers, lapse and express confidence that many will return with their children at some future point, but I could not.

Last week as I walked into church, I felt a nudge in my back and turned to see my daughter following me in.

It was a one-off visit, but in accepting the “no” I can see that I have created the space that she needs for “yes”and that, for me, is a sign that in my effort to be present,  I am creating the opportunities for my hopes to be fulfilled.

My next blog will be: Anguish

William Defoe

When I was young, it was a custom that we would dress smartly in our “Sunday Best” for our attendance at Mass.

Nowadays, I would describe my attire for Mass as smart, but casual.

Last Sunday, I found intense joy in observing a young girl with blue hair and ripped jeans accompanying her grandfather to the altar with the offertory.

These are the gifts of bread and wine which are symbols of (wo)man’s labour which are offered to, and then transformed, by the priest during the Eucharistic Liturgy into what I and my fellow Catholics believe to be the Body and Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Her blue hair spoke to me of coming before God as an individual, expressing herself as she wants to be seen, yet so wonderfully it seems to me, being able at the same time to express her faith, which as individuals we form together in our community.

So often in the past, I have felt pre-occupied with outward signs of witness which suppressed the truth in my heart and as I have grown in knowledge and love of self in recent years, I feel intense joy at witnessing my fellow Catholics bringing themselves in all their quirkiness  to the Lord’s House.

My next blog will be : The Importance of “No”

William Defoe