Early on Friday morning, I was over taken by another runner as I ran up a hill.

His presence was a surprise to me, and after a brief gesture of salute and a show of respect to each other as he passed by me on the outside, I felt strangely disappointed.

Of course, this was an appearance of the critic which quickly reminded me that the progress that I was making in terms of my commitment to running five mornings each week and the resulting improved fitness and weight loss was nothing that special at all.

Being acquainted with my inner critic, helped me listen closely for the voice within which reminded me that running was about pace not race.

I set out on my running each day to feel into a strong physical presence which through the exertion and effort, reminds me that my body holds all that is sacred within me, not my mind.

I have improved my pace over time, but I have never set out to win a race.

The man that passed me, whom I hardly saw, was most likely younger than me, or older and fitter – no matter which.

He may have been sprinting to the end of his run, whilst I was at the start of mine – no matter which.

I have had to learn that my life is about participating as fully as I can in any given moment, and that this connection with all things will fluctuate like the tides of the sea which ebbs and flows relentlessly.

My life is a mystery which I encounter with varying degrees of pace, not race!

My next blog will be: Meal Time

William Defoe.

The early mornings are darker now.

Yesterday, as I ran a less familiar route, I saw ahead of me, as I turned a corner, a black cat sat bolt upright on its haunches with its head turned towards me – such clarity and amazing detail!.

As I drew nearer, the shape I had seen, altered dramatically, and below me on the grass, where the cat had been, I saw only the edge of a street sign attached to a low square post.

How short-sighted of me that I should see a cat when there was no such thing in my view.

A short while later, I saw a woman stood by the edge of the pavement, holding a clutch bag to her waist, as if she was waiting for me to run past her.

As I drew nearer, the shape I had seen altered dramatically, and where the woman had been, I saw only the back of a car behind a white van with a distinctive rear light casement.

How short-sighted of me that I should see a woman clutching a bag, when there was no such thing in my view.

Good, that I was not driving a car at these moments, I mused!.

How often have I experienced things in my life where the reality is different to that which i have  imagined, the judgement so different to the intention?

How short-sighted it would be, if I did not first put on my glasses to get a clearer view, or allow time to get a little nearer before proclaiming my truth!

My next blog will be: Pace not Race

William Defoe

A profusion of white roses leans into the path near the front door of my house.

I adore them!

With each prune of the dead heads, a new abundance grows and amazes me with the generosity which a humble rose bush can bring to the world from a single stem.

As I brush past them each morning and night, doing my best not to knock into them, the morning dew, or the raindrops from last nights shower, dampens my shirt and leaves its colourless scent on me.

This abundance of giving, speaks to me of what it must be like to be generous, to be out in the world bringing all our gifts.

Of course, for me, and perhaps for you, the world does not always seem to be welcoming of my gifts, or interested in them, or noticing of them, but the profusion of roses outside my front door, which dampens my shirt, and catches my eye, calls to me to bring it all anyway.

My next blog will be: Short-sighted

William Defoe

I have a tendency, which I am very aware of nowadays, that I to want to have a sense of order in life.

The problem with this tendency is that life is not like that, and so what can I do to respond to my new found awareness that life and order are not always compatible?.

Whilst on holiday in Portugal last month, I became besotted with the unfinished spaces around the town and the beach.

The unfinished pavements, and, what I had initially described to myself as “wasteland” became for me the beautiful unfinished spaces which I would be sad to see developed.

This sense of unfinished spaces spoke to me, in my long spells of reflection, of how I too need to recognise and accept the unfinished spaces which call for my attention from the pools of self from deep within me, and not try to order them, but to love them.

Unfinished spaces speak strongly to me of work undone, time to come, space for which the ordered parts of my life can expand into, when the time comes.

Unfinished spaces signals a depth of hopefulness and satisfaction with how things are today without denying the opportunity for growth in the future.

On those unfinished pavements in Alvor, my feet would roll over the loose stones and propel me forward, but, rather than feel disconcerted by the uncertainty underfoot, I felt a sense of exhilaration and gratitude that the order which I have craved, has at last found peace and calm in the unfinished spaces of the life I am living today.

My next blog will be : Profusion

William Defoe

I take prescribed medication everyday to manage a kidney complaint which I have had for over thirty years.

The little tablet I take each day, controls my blood pressure and keeps my kidneys safe from further damage.

Many of you, I am sure, will be able to relate to this repeating practice of taking medication everyday to manage a medical condition.

I have been able, in recent years, to apply the same logic of repeating practices to keep me emotionally safe after many years of intense suffering as a result of living in isolation and fear  because of my inability to accept fundamental truths in respect of my identity.

My inability to reconcile the conflicted elements of my truth, created within me, a space for anxiety, stress, frustration, anger and paranoia which spilled out into so many elements of my life and with such a destructive force that there were times when I was unable to cope.

I live my life today, in the present moment, by repeating practices some of which are absolutely routine, whilst others I call upon for help in given situations.

The routine repeating practices which are most important to me are a work-life balance, established wake and sleep patterns, physical exercise; blogging; journaling; sitting in silence; mental discipline and community.

The less routine repeating practices involve me being able, in the moment, to stop for just enough time to stop a knee jerk reaction at times of provocation and increasingly being prepared to listen rather than speak in given situations.

I enjoy the wonderful support of a coach whose voice and eyes are in my head as I navigate the everyday happenings of my life which have been at the very heart of my liberation from my emotional suffering.

These repeating practices have brought from within me, a mental and physical and creative capacity which I would have thought previously I was incapable of.

These repeating practices have given me the capacity to be happy, inherently happy even at times for uncertainty and difficulty, because no problem or concern, no matter how big,  has the effect on me that would make it seem all-encompassing.

Repeating practices has provided me with the ability to put life’s challenges and difficulties into a context of a broader perspective which recognises that

I have a right to live,

I have a right to be happy,

I have a right to love and be loved,

I have a right to be, just be

……………and it feels wonderful!.

My next blog will be: Unfinished Spaces

William Defoe

Something grabbed my attention about Renee Zellweger’s (Bridget Jones) interview with Jonathan Ross, in which she told him that she had enjoyed the last six years of her life living below the radar of public consciousness.

She told him that she had been able to go out for coffee without being recognised and she had enjoyed authentic conversations in the street – “I liked that” she said.

This notion of authentic conversation struck a chord with me.

In Ms Zellweger’s case, I presume she was able to interact with the public without being recognised as a world famous actor and was therefore able to interact with the people she met, without the barrier of celebrity and all the restrictions that this status brings.

I, of course, perhaps like you, don’t have to worry about the status of celebrity, but how often, do I really bring what is with me into the public domain?.

In my case, a substantial part of my truth is hidden (i.e.the fact that I am gay), but I am learning that this does not necessarily mean that I have to suppress or deny the reality of this truth in my interactions at work and in general.

I have learned, through development, that I do not have to fear aspects of my truth being suspected or on view, however, like the actor, I do not have to confirm its existence – it is there to see, but not necessarily to be confirmed.

I have come to realise that the most basic authentic conversation does not start in the street, it starts with self.

If you love all of what is you, even the bits you are afraid to admit, the fear of this aspect being the focus of another persons opinion becomes significantly less diminished.

Authentic conversation has its origins in getting to know and love self, and from this place the outward manifestation of this self knowledge and self love, is an awareness and an ability to bring the full essence of self without fear of recrimination or rejection.

My next blog will be: Repeating Practices

William Defoe

My first introduction to classical music was when at the age of 9 years old, the school class was asked to sit and listen to Sergei Prokofiev’s children’s classic, Peter and the Wolf – I was mesmerized by it and later acquired a recording of it on a vinyl  disc.

Earlier this week I played Peter and the Wolf in my car as I drove home from work  – (not on vinyl, but CD!), and this beautiful children’s piece of music, called again for my inner attention to its beauty.

The piece, introduces children to the instruments of an orchestra, which represent a young Russian boy Peter as the strings; his cat as the clarinet; his friend the bird as the flute; his grandfather as the bassoon; the duck as the oboe; the wolf as the three horns; and the huntsmen as the kettledrums.

This segmentation of the characters of the story, as separate and distinct instruments, which are introduced by the narrator individually, and later blended in with the other characters, spoke to my inner voice of my own journey of development to know and love self.

When we make a decision to confront ourselves in the fullness of our truth and identity, it is necessary to unravel each strand of the issues which have crowded in our lives so that they can be seen and heard and recognised individually and then gradually fitted back into their place within our lives with a fuller understanding of their truth, their purpose, their pain, their love, their hopes and their fears for each of us.

Peter and the Wolf is a beautiful piece of music, iconic and wonderful and if we take the time to apply its teaching to the complexities of our lives, we will begin to see, that we too, are iconic and wonderful  human beings.

……….  and that includes me, and it also includes you!

My next blog will be: Authentic Conversation

William Defoe

Peter and the Wolf (Russian: Петя и волк, Petya i volk), Op. 67, is a composition written by Sergei Prokofiev in 1936 in the USSR. It is achildren’s story (with both music and text by Prokofiev), spoken by a narrator accompanied by the orchestra

To be grounded is to occupy the physical space which is the here and now.

It is to give recognition to the circumstances as they are now, at this moment, whether or not they are the circumstances that we want them to be.

Being grounded is the place from which our feet can move to take us on our onward journey onto future ground.

These words,  occupied my thoughts for significant moments of the quiet, reflective time which I had the opportunity to enjoy on my recent holiday.

They have continued to work within me, because for many years, before I started being coached, I can now see that I was utterly groundless for long periods of my life.

I was totally consumed by my fears, both real and imagined, about what would happen if I was to admit the truth about my sexuality to my wife, or worse if she was somehow to find out about it from a stray word or action or even talking in my sleep.

I was forever fearful of being found out, not realising that unless I actually confirmed my truth, any such assertion was no more than conjecture or opinion.

I found solid ground after entering an Integral Coaching programme, which enabled me for the first time, to take stock of the ground on which I stood.

It was a difficult place to stand, four years ago, but even in the enormity of the feelings I had, which threatened to overwhelm me, I was for the first time, fully conscious, fully awake, fully aware of the ground on which I stood.

The beauty of finding solid ground, is that unless your feet refuse to take a step forward or even backward, you are at the start of a journey.

The difficulty is to know which step to take, in which direction to go, and I have been able to move forward by learning to get to know myself for the first time – I am a very nice man!.

I have covered so much ground by learning to be still, learning to think carefully, forming a network of support, researching and relaxing; running and sitting; laughing and crying; guarding and sharing; choosing and waiting.

Sometimes I can feel the anxiety arise from within me and I become reactive and uncertain, and I know that my feet have momentarily lost contact with the ground.

Its a terrible feeling, but imagine living everyday in that state of being – I can tell you it is intolerable, unsustainable and crushing.

In my experience, being grounded, is the key to living, even if bits of that living are sad, disappointing or anxious, it’s good to know where I am at in the present moment, because I can begin to plan my next move.

My wonderful coach says to me sometimes, “You sound so grounded, William” – I think she says this when I have been able to recognise the here and now, not just from my own viewpoint of a specific issue, but from the viewpoint of others.

Being grounded is not about deferring to the others point of view, it is about taking your own step forward having given consideration to as many influences as has been possible.

My next blog will be: Peter and the Wolf

William Defoe

This post has been inspired by the writing of David Whyte, in his beautiful book “Consolations” (The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words). 

I have noticed recently how popular it is for men to wear bracelets and bangles and ties and braids on their wrists and forearms.

When I was about 15 years old I bought myself a bracelet, most likely on a trip to the seaside.

It was a silver plated chain with a plate on which I had my name engraved and I wore it loose at the bottom of my wrist with the name-plate resting on my hand.

I was too scared to wear it at school, I would have stood out and brought upon myself unwanted attention of the bullying kind, but I wore it at home knowing that my father thought it was the sign of a “sissy” to wear it.

I think that bracelet was my own little rebellion, my own attempt to communicate to the world feelings which, at that time, I did not understand.

I suspect that my mother told my father to remain silent on the issue and that it was a phase which I would grow out of.

A year or two later, I met a girl and I stopped wearing my bracelet, not because I wanted to suppress my own truth, but because I suppose I had no need to act rebelliously as I moved into manhood.

My slow awakening to the fullness of my sexual identity has its origins in the period in which I wore that bracelet.

I recognise that I was trying to communicate something – not because the wearing of a bracelet makes you gay, of course it doesn’t, but because of the emotional intent which I felt in wearing it.

I was trying to communicate a truth which would take me over fifteen years to understand and thirty years to put into words to those whom I love.

It is my deep-held hope that my blog will reach one person in the world who like me has suppressed their truth for too long, in the hope that they will be inspired to find the courage to choose freedom over fear, to choose community over isolation, to choose a life lived in the present.

My next blog will be: Being Grounded

William Defoe

I have noticed that I have an increasing need for periods of silence in my life.

I was surprised, therefore, by the feeling of euphoria which I experienced whilst taking a late night ride on a Land Train whilst on holiday in Portugal..

The decision we made, to join the fun Land Train, was on impulse, and as it set off around the streets of the beautiful coastal town, the passengers started to wave at all the passersby as went along.

Whenever someone on the street waved back, a great cheer went up from the Land Train which caused the passengers and the pedestrians to laugh.

In the narrow streets, the excitement increased, as people waved back at us from pavement restaurants and bars, and  from kitchens and houses.

It is hard to explain just how this feeling of connection with my fellow passengers, (all strangers), and with the people who connected with us from the street, made me feel.

I felt as if I had taken a potion which made me feel uncontrollably happy.

I felt alive and connected with those I was sharing this surreal experience.

I felt emotional, relieved to be capable of feeling as happy as this for a reason I could not explain.

I think my euphoria, has something to do with having survived the struggle to accept me, all of me.

I think my euphoria, has something to do with being able to live in the moment and experience its wonders with a raw intensity which is no longer constrained by old feelings of not being able to cope.

I think my euphoria, has something to do with living my life in the present and recognising that although I like to be silent, I also like to connect to life in all its fullness, and this is the feeling that I have taken away from my ride on a Land Train.

My next blog will be: Bracelet

William Defoe