Living my life has at times felt like an unbearable ordeal.

In recent years, I have got to grips with a new way of being in the world, and I have found a way of accommodating and accepting  much more of me than was hitherto possible.

I have also made strenuous efforts to accommodate and accept much more of the views and opinions of others by putting myself in a place where I can hear their pain and sense their vulnerability.

In getting to grips with self and others, I have shifted my life into the present, letting go of the past, and this has been possible, I believe, because I have learned to trust in a better future.

In being able to trust, I have had to be prepared to stay silent and listen when what is being said, and what I am hearing, (not always the same thing!) is challenging my ability to remain calm.

It is essential that I do stay calm, because to trust means I have to be able to get up close to what I most fear, I need to be able to get up close to a different view, I have to be able to get up close to the vulnerabilities of others.

Whilst on holiday in May, a little bird visited my breakfast table outside on the patio overlooking the sea.

This little bird stood chirping for my attention, on the back of the vacant chair opposite me and my wife, in the hope of earning a crust.

Each day, I would break off a piece of crust from my toast, and place it gently on the table close to where my hand was rested.

I was amazed and thrilled when the little bird hopped onto the table  and bopped, bopped, bopped, over to the crust, grabbed it and flew to the floor to consume the reward it had gained for its tenacity and bravery.

A key focus of my life at the current time is for me to help to heal the wounds of family division, for which I sense that my past behaviour is a cause.

It is too simplistic to blame it all on my past behaviours, in fact I think to do so, is unhelpful in terms of being able to be a conduit for change.

My remarkable shift in attitude and capacity to live in the present, should be, and is, the catalyst by which I draw strength to heal the wounds of family division – I know it can work, I am living proof that it can.

I will be the little bird which will chirp happily from the sidelines in the hope of an invitation to move in close.

I will be the little bird who will bop bop bop towards the source of the pain in others.

I, like that little bird will learn to trust, learn to take the risk, which, with each passing day lessens, as the promise of a reward for my efforts becomes a reality.

My next blog will be: Courage

William Defoe

In the aftermath of the terrible attack at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Florida I have been thinking about the victims and the family and friends of all those in the LGBT community whom have died,  and to them all, I send them my heartfelt sympathy and prayers.

As the search for a motive for such a senseless act of violence is sought, I heard the term “internalised homophobia” being used to describe the attacker, who may have hated his own homosexuality so much, that he turned his anger on others who represented for him the outward sign of his own internal hatred.

I speak from the experience of having suffered with a conflicted part of self, which caused me to feel deep pain, isolation and fear as I wrestled with the emerging truth which I refused to accept  – that in fact I am homosexual.

All the school yard bullies who had accused me of this reality, which caused me to clam up and deny it,  seriously inhibited by capacity to mature into a fuller understanding of my truth.

And then there was my family, loving and kind, but very much traditional in values of a strict and harsh moral code, which served to protect and nurture me but which caused deep inner conflict and turmoil..

And then there was the strict teaching of the Catholic faith which viewed homosexuality as an abomination and a disorder, which conflicted me because I had developed a very sincere belief in the Catholic faith, a respect for its hierarchy,  and also for its teachings.

And then there was my marriage to my wife, whom I love with all my heart, and our dear children, whom we had jointly brought forth into the world to love and care for – to have exposed my truth as it became more fully apparent, and recognised for what it was by me, brought me the very worst sense of inner conflict.

And then when my anger and frustration and anxiety was wreaking greater and greater havoc on my ability to function in this conflicted state – I came to the point where I told my wife the truth, and due to my faithfulness in marriage, she accepted me in wholeness and love.

It would seem then that my problems were over, my wife still loved me, she had not outed me or left me or humiliated me, but the greater struggle still, was to find a means of accepting self.

The term “internalised homophobia” above is used in reference to an outward hatred of homosexuality, the origins of which are conflicted within.

In my case, the “internalised homophobia” which I experienced was manifest outwardly in anger, rigid conformity, high expectations of others, whilst inside I experienced a kind of hatred of self, anxiety, fear and at times a sense that my life was too hard to live.

When I first went for Integral Coaching, one of the most profound moments of my life, on my very first visit to see my coach, was when I told her that I had prayed and prayed and begged that this “cross” of homosexuality be lifted from me.

It was just not compatible for the life I had been born into and which I had chosen to live when I had lacked the maturity to understand and make sense of my otherness.

Her words, as I cried in anguish at the liberation of speaking out the pain which I had held within me for over 20 years, were that I had to accept it.

This notion of welcoming and accepting my homosexuality had never crossed my mind – never – because I had not understood, that I had the capacity to live a life which was all encompassing.

This does not mean that I can express physically my feelings for my own sex, because I have chosen to remain married, but it does mean that I can honour my own truth, value it, accept it, love it, laugh at it, welcome it, cry with it and do all this within my marriage and within my faith.

My reason for writing this blog over the last two years has been to reach out to those who are conflicted, and in being so, have rejected an element of themselves which refuse to be ignored.

The way to liberation for me has come through the love of my wife; the support of the my coach through the Integral Coaching techniques of expansive and holistic thinking; and my  own growing capacity to listen to my inner voice and learn to love self.

[To all those hurt in the shootings in Orlando and to those who have lost family and friends and for the communities in Orlando, I offer my thoughts and prayers at this sad time.]

My next blog will be: Little Bird

William Defoe

As I lounged on my sunbed in Fuengirola a few weeks ago, I was drawn to the segregation of duties within a beautiful young Spanish family who were sat a few metres away from me.

As a young mother played with her son, aged approximately 4 years old, at the edge of the sea in front of me, her husband/partner was sat on his beach towel with his baby son of about 6 months old.

The baby was sat on the same beach towel, bolt upright and as his father spoke lovingly to him, both his arms lifted at the same time, and if I could have seen his little face, I am sure it would have beheld the broadest of smiles.

The reaction of the baby to his father’s words and care, reminded me very strongly of the reaction I get when I pay attention and listen to my inner voice.

It is a feeling which speaks of a connection with self at the very deepest level, and overtime it allows me to develop more fully my potential in the world.

As the young father protects and nurtures his baby with his love, so too does the inner dialogue with self, protect and nurture me and this gives me the confidence, belief and strength to reach out past the barriers which have kept me closed in, to a more courageous and compassionate existence.

Thank you beautiful Spanish baby boy for teaching me so much as your back was turned away from me.

It was your connection with your father through your smile which I could not see, and in your involuntary arm movement which I could see, which helped me to deepen further my understanding of self.

My next blog will be: Conflicted

William Defoe

The smallest pan in our kitchen is a chrome “milk pan”

It gets used a lot because it is suitable and adaptable to quite a few small scale tasks.

I noticed it’s unique place as a tool of choice recently after making a couple of boiled eggs for my wife, I threw out the boiling water into the sink and without having to wash and dry it, I poured into the same pan some porridge oats and milk for my own breakfast of choice.

I was drawn in that moment, of deploying the full range of my culinary skills, to the present – the here and now –  and the place of this little milk pan within it.

I noticed that it is adaptable, seamlessly to the new requirement which I placed upon it and that once placed on the source of fuel  – in this case – the gas, it delivered under my watchful eye its nourishment to the household.

This pan simply illustrated to me, in that moment, that with the fuel of courage and love  – love of self and love for, and from, those who are close to me, I too can be adaptable, useful and a source of strength in my journey through life.

My next blog will be: Father and Baby

William Defoe

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