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• I have withdrawn from been news-centric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

I have recently enjoyed watching the gripping space film, “The Martian” starring Matt Damon.

Matt Damon’s character, Mark Watney is accidentally left alive and alone on Mars during an emergency evacuation by the crew in a dangerous martian storm.

I have felt inspired by the idea, which is promoted in the film, which is that to survive we have to take incremental steps.

My own journey to accept my truth has been incremental and it continues to be so.

It sometimes feels like I am trying a variety of ways to make connections with the world through a revised prism of my identity which somehow feel unrelated and random.

As my journey has unfolded, these apparently separate elements begin to form connections with each other which protect and sustain my fragile soul.

At the end of the film, Mark Watney, after undertaking heroic challenges to survive, has to submit himself completely to his crew mates who are attempting to reach him in space.

It looks like they are going to fall short, but he thrusts himself forward from his low orbit through the hole he creates in his space suit to propel himself towards his rescuers.

This made me feel emotional, because so often I have felt that despite all my efforts, those whom I need to support me fall short and do not manage to reach in to my pain to rescue me.

I felt in watching the film, that I need to recognise in others the effort they make to help and support me with their love and to resolve to make an extra effort to propel myself forward to them out of my own low orbit.

My next blog will be: Blue Hair

William Defoe

[My wife, seeing that I was emotional at the end of this wonderful film, said to me ” You do realise Will that it is only a sandpit?” – I said “I do not, he’s been left alone 50 million miles away all alone on Mars”]

Today is Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent which culminates with the Holy Paschal Triduum at Easter.

In recent years, I have been very successful in giving up alcohol completely for the whole of Lent and also tea/coffee at my desk.

The financial gain which I make from not indulging in these normal activities, I am asked to give to charity – alms giving, which of course I will do.

This year, Pope Francis, in a pre-Lenten address emphasized the importance of doing something in Lent which will be of benefit to someone else – I ask myself what does he mean?

I can’t see how my small sacrifices as explained above will be of benefit to others.

Perhaps I will be able to give my friends more lifts in my car if I am not drinking – is that what he means?

Perhaps I will be calmer and less tired and less likely to say the wrong thing if I am simply drinking water – is that what he means?.

Perhaps I will find an opportunity to do something unexpected for a stranger or an acquaintance with whom I have little interaction – is that what he means?

Perhaps I will find a moment each day to pray for those who are completely unknown to me who suffer from effects of poverty, hunger, war, disease, oppression, loneliness, bereavement – is that what he means?

Perhaps I will find an opportunity to say sorry to someone whom I have hurt through my words or actions or was it through my silence or inaction? – is that what he means?

Perhaps I will find a way, through prayer and reflection to join my sufferings to those of our Lord Jesus Christ and find a way of accepting that my suffering is a way to be like Christ at his crucifixion so that I can emerge with Him at His resurrection – is that what he means?

Perhaps I will find a way to reach out to a fellow citizen of another faith, or of none – is that what he means?

Lent, it seems to me, is like sharing the fruits from within, of developing self, and my abstinence from an everyday habit, enables me to share myself with others – I think that is what he means, in fact, I’m sure of it!

My next blog will be: Low Orbit

William Defoe

Last night I came across Kitty again – on You Tube.

Kitty, played by Patricia Routledge, appeared in a five minute monologue during The Victoria Wood As Seen on TV Show in the 1980’s.

I cried with laughter at the following lines in episode 3, all spoken by the brilliant Patricia Routledge in monologue:

“The Producer didn’t cook, thank goodness

She’s a nice girl, but when somebody chain smokes capstan full strength, and wears a Coleman’s Jerkin, you’re hardly tempted to sample their dumplings.

First day I met her, she said “I’m a radical feminist lesbian”

I thought “What would the Queen Mum do”

So I just smiled and said “We shall have fog by tea-time”

She said “Are you intimidated by my sexual preferences?”

I said, “No and I’m not too struck with your donkey jacket either”

This little extract had me in tears of laughter last night.

I noticed that its nostalgic brilliance had not been lost on me over the years since I had last seen it – it made me laugh when I first heard it, just as much as it did today.

As I kept repeating the little clip, I noticed and I enjoyed the live studio audience laughing at each silly statement, but also that some laughter from individuals in the audience was longer and higher pitched than others.

I noticed that some people found this clip more humorous than others, or should I say they appeared to express their enjoyment of it more forcefully in the quality of their laughter.

I have noticed that despite the difficulties that I have endured in my life, I have been able to laugh and at times make people laugh too.

The wonder of living life in the present, is that like yesterday, feeling very despondent with some aspects of self, and all churned up, I was able to laugh until I cried at this piece of literary brilliance, which is Kitty!

My next blog will be: Lent

William Defoe

A couple of weeks ago I decided to have a longer than usual Sunday run.

During the run I became aware that the top of my legs were rubbing harshly against each other and causing me discomfort.

I did what I could to adjust the Lycra protection that I wear to prevent such unwanted contact, but it was to  late, the damage was done – for a few days I had very sore Chapped Legs!.

I think that our own conflicted thoughts can, at times, cause friction in our mental state of mind and leave us open to the anguish and pain of not quite knowing what to do next.

Quite often, my own internal conflicts have been caused because I was under an illusion that I had to make a choice, or a snap decision, on a matter, which required of me more thought and time.

As a man of faith, I can see the benefit of praying over such matters, and please believe me when I say I do pray, but prayer for me works better when I am simply being with God in quiet reverie.

I have noticed, that I have been called upon, to be more expansive in my thinking as I journey into a life of being present.

This means, that I need somehow to hold all the conflict in my mind but think of it, not as conflict or choice or friction, but as story – a story which is slowly building up a plot to an ending which has not yet revealed itself ….. but it will!

I caused the skin at the top of my legs to burn, when I chapped my legs, so I have now taken extra precautions to:-

• apply some cream to the said area, and
• wear a layer of cotton under the Lycra……
• which is under my shorts…..
• – its a wonder I can run at all!

but, joking aside, this notion of layering and protecting and keeping going physically, is supporting my increasing ability to hold it all together, with generosity and love of self, while I work through those issues which trouble my mind.

My next blog will be: Kitty

William Defoe

In an interview before he died, Yul Brynner was asked whether there was any one thing in his life that he would change if he could,  and in answer he said:  “I’d have stopped smoking”

Yul Brynner died of lung cancer in 1985.

His sense of hopelessness at the end of his life, in respect of a lifestyle that he believed had cost him his life, moved me very much.

I have been reflecting on what I would change about my life if I could, here and now in the present and here it is.

I wish I could spend more time with my little children, just listening to them, talking to them, holding them whilst being calm at the same time.

Like Yul Brynner, I can’t go back and change the past, and perhaps my perception of the kind of father I was when my children were growing up, is clouded and unclear and not really a reflection of how it was.

I did spend time with them, I read to them, I made up stories for them, I played with them, I made them laugh, I hid from them, I jumped out on them, I tickled them, I treated them, I went on holiday with them, I had picnics with them, I bought them gifts and I provided a home with all the essentials which they needed.

So what is this grief I carry around with me which feels like failure?

I suppose it is that whilst doing all those wonderful things, I was unhappy and anxious and scared that I would not succeed, that I would fail them in some way.

I want to go back and do it all again but without the fear.

Mary McAleese, former President of Eire said at the banquet in Dublin Castle on HM Queen’s State Visit to Ireland in 2011, “that whilst none of us can change the past, we have chosen to change the future into which we hopefully can let in enough light to allow perspectives on the past to soften.”

This aspiration, in her fabulous speech, is at the heart of my struggle to accept how things have been, and how things are today.

I am surrounded by evidence that my adult children love me, but I sometimes resist letting that love in, so that my sense of having failed them by not being open with them about my suffering, is what, I want, at this point in my life, to change most of all.

To live in the present, was summed up by HM Queen in her speech in Dublin Castle on the same evening – “we must learn to bow to the past, but not be bound by it”

I have worked very hard in recent years to be calm, to be open to the ideas that my adult children have about their lives and to be as supportive as I can.

The bit that is missing, the bit that I would most like to change, is being able to feel their love, after having explained to them the fullness of my truth, and that is the hardest bit of all to change.

My next blog will be: Chapped Legs

William Defoe

Simon Weston CBE is well known in the UK as a veteran of the 1982 Falklands War in which he sustained serious burns when his ship The Sir Galahad was bombed on 8 June 1982.

At a conference which I attended last week, I had the privilege of listening to Simon Weston give a motivational speech, in which he explained, with simplicity and clarity, the distinction between Fate and Destiny.

Fate, he said, is what happens

Destiny, he said, is in our own hands.

After sustaining terrible injuries, Simon Weston said that whilst at his hospital bedside his mother had said to him “Right Simon, where do we go from here because the world does not owe you a favour”

After being discharged from the army, which had been his whole life, and coming to terms with his injuries and his sense of guilt over the loss of his friends, whom he could not help, Simon Weston has lived a public life supporting various charities which aimed to support young people to find their destiny.

I felt inspired by his life, which through great effort and determination, and whilst suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and undergoing 96 separate operations on his face and hands, he has been able to make his life an opportunity to make a difference.

He said, “we all have to learn from our mistakes and keep a sense of proportion when things go wrong.”

Life he said, goes on, and I had to learn to accept myself as I was and overcome my fear of failure in the present and my assumption that my future would be a failure too.

After being told by a young woman on a night out in a pub that his injured face had spoiled her night out and that he should have stayed at home, he said, “You can’t do anything about what other people say – all you can do is maintain your own dignity”

I, William Defoe, have spent many years questioning the origins of my sexual orientation and whether someone else was to blame for my sense of fear and isolation.

I have come to realise that how I am, is how I was born and this is my Fate.

The fact that I have overcome my sense of failure and that I am working hard to live my life in the present is my Destiny.

My next blog will be: What would you change?

William Defoe

I offer my prayers for the Argentine and British Soldiers who lost their lives during the Falklands War in 1982 and for those who live with mental and physical injuries and their families.

I also offer my prayers for a closer friendship between the government and citizens of the UK and Argentina.

I also pray for our Pope Francis, a gift to the world from Argentina!