Yuk is defined in the English Oxford Dictionary as a word used to express strong distaste or disgust.

For many months now I have lived in a question of how far I should go to reveal the truth about my sexuality to the world.

Last week, whilst travelling with my mother, our conversation drifted to the issue of gay marriage in connection to a mutual acquaintance of ours who happens to be a lesbian and living in a very long term relationship with another woman.

My mother, as she referred to this relationship, described their situation as “Yuk”

This strong judgement, on a couple whom neither of us know very well, made me think again about the reason I find it difficult to be open with her, and others, about the truth of my same sex attraction.

At first, on reflection it made me metaphorically curl up like a hedgehog into a ball of spines – ready to repel any risk of hurt or judgement that might befall me if I was to make my truth more widely known.

At the heart of my dilemma is a growing and deepening acceptance and love of self as to who I am,  which is offset by an anxiety, that if I was more open, I would lay myself wide open to judgement, hurt and rejection.

On further reflection, these words of judgement have stiffened my resolve to be ready for some losses – but not my mother.

This effectively means, that I will put to rest any hope that I have of being open with my mother, which is a lost opportunity for us both.

It seems to me that if we are quick to judge others, we open up to the risk of denying ourselves the opportunity to live fully present in the truth of the world.

We deny ourselves the opportunity to be a source of help and support to those whom we love.

It is my strong assertion, that as we grow in our love of self, in all aspects of our truth, we become more and more open to the truth of all those in the world, in all the wonderful contradictions and diversity, which this world has to offer.

My next blog will be: Fate and Destiny

William Defoe

I have got into the habit of having around me something to read which will bring a wider perspective to my journey to find compassion for self.

I’ve been hooked to a book called “Consolations” by David Whyte in recent weeks.

In his wonderful book of prose, David Whyte takes everyday words, and explains them as a consolation for where we are today, in the present, rather than where we are trying to be.

I have come to realise that I am not searching for improvement on my journey to love self, nor am I searching for a cure, I am searching to accept the present situation of my life which at any given time can be light and shade and quite possibly a range of these extremes on any given day.

I was drawn to his chapter on “Pain” because it is not a book that you read from page 1 – I just dip in and out of the various words which he has presented as his titles.

First thing to note to self, is that I was drawn to his chapter on “pain” – that’s interesting in itself – will there be a cure even though I’m not supposed to be looking for a cure?

Pain, he says “is the doorway to the here and now”

How wise am I? – I have found the right page after all.

His words force me to be expansive in my thinking and gentle and kind to self in the context of his unraveling of everyday words.

Words which have previously locked me in from being able to fully love myself and previously caused me to hope, that somehow, someone else will do the work of finding compassion for me.

I have noticed in recent weeks that my acceptance of the tumultuous emotional struggle which is ongoing in my life, has enabled me to recognise, accept and comfort the pain which I see in others so that I can bring to an end my narrative of expectation in others.

It is one of the profoundest insights into my journey of self, which I have mentioned previously through my writing, that accepting the pain in self with compassion, is a key enabler to being able to empathize with the pain of others, especially those whom we love the most.

My next blog will be: Yuk

William Defoe

Last weekend, whilst I was out walking with my sister and her family along the coast in Cornwall, our conversation turned to an issue which is not yet fully resolved in my own heart.

I attended to the topic in brief terms, but I resisted a temptation to throw out my uncertainty for general discussion.

There was a slight moment of awkward silence into which again I resisted the instinct to feed the gap by saying more than I was ready to say at this point in time.

The conversation turned to other matters and the idyllic day punctuated with laughter and a pint of beer / glass of wine at a lovely coastal pub was a very happy day indeed.

As we arrived back from our walk, the group dispersed for a couple of hours in advance of a rendez-vous for evening dinner a couple of hours later.

I, having walked for most of the day, and a little fatigued felt within me a compulsion to keep walking on  along the coast alone – to be with self.

Once alone, I allowed myself to feel into the issues that had waited patiently for my attention, and I took a moment at an isolated place to fill my lungs and cry out sea-ward in an effort to release the stifling intensity that my emotions were storing up in my chest.

The release of sound and air from my lungs gave way to a few tears of release and I knew at once that all was calm again, I had listened to my inner voice, it acknowledged that I had heard it through my tears.

The interesting thing is, that the issues I am concerned about – [and there are several at the moment – some interlinked, some not – as I suspect there are for all of us, most of the time] – did not dissipate, they were not resolved, but they continue to do their work within me as I come to terms with what course of action to take or not as the case may be.

I noticed that in the moment, on the beach when this issue was raised, that I have discovered a powerful ability, which I have not hitherto known, to be brief and then silent – not awkward or sulking or needy or stressed, but calm, collected, measured and balanced whilst at the same time maintaining the joy in the present moment of being with them all in that beautiful place.

In choosing to walk on, I addressed the needs of self, and spent some time with the questions that seem to want an answer from me, and with time I now realise that the answers will come from within or from choosing the right time, the right and appropriate moment to ask those who love me most for help.

My next blog will be : Consolations

William Defoe

I am having a winter break at home this week.

It is part of my ongoing work to bring a balance to my life of work and rest.

I have set my heart on watching the BBC Coverage of the 2012 London Olympics which I received as a box set gift shortly after the games ended, which I have never found time to watch except for brief excerpts.

I am surprised at my choice of relaxation for the couple of days that I have given myself for this repast, because I am not particularly interested in sport, and I was on holiday in Portugal when the Olympic Games were held in London.

I have also consciously made a decision to watch less TV as I find a way to be present each day in my life, so to plan to sit in front of the TV purposefully for a couple of days seems a tad indulgent and could be interpreted as a backward step on my resolve.

I love my country, I was immensely proud of my country during the Olympics and I want to honour the commitment and skill of all the athletes who took part and to celebrate the success and effort of Team GB.

There is one moment which I am keen to watch again, and perhaps is the reason why I have set aside this time, and that is the sight of Northern Ireland’s exhausted single sculler Alan Campbell being half-carried towards the medal podium by Sir Steve Redgrave to pick up his bronze medal.

Campbell had given every last ounce of energy to bag himself a bronze, the first single sculls medal by a rower from the British Isles since 1928.

His complete exhaustion, his recognition that he had done all that he could, moved me deeply because his success was won through courage and determination against the odds.

I am hoping that the Olympic athletes of the 2012 London games will inspire me to persevere in my own journey to find within me the compassion for self which I have sought for so long.

I wish the government and people of Brazil best wishes for their preparation for, and enjoyment of, the 2016 Rio de Janeiro Olympic Games.

My next blog will be: Walking on

William Defoe

Readybrek is a famous and popular breakfast cereal in the UK.

It is a porridge type substance which I remember being marketed for children as a warm start for the day.

TV Adverts in the 1970’s, when I was a child, showed children leaving their homes for school on cold, dark mornings with a readybrek glow around them  – like an invisible heating system around their outline from head to toe to protect them from the cold.

As a child, I used to associate the readybrek glow with what it would be like to see your own soul.

The soul, I was taught in my Catholic Education, is the essence of God in my body, which has been wiped clean from the stain of original sin by virtue of my baptism.

It is the part of us, unseen, which transcends death and is therefore the part of us which survives in heaven for eternity.

I have been reminded recently of my old associations of the readybrek glow and my understanding of soul, by my reaction to some uncertainty which has arisen in my life at work.

My fabulous boss has announced that she will be leaving later this year and I have felt unsettled by her announcement.

In the past, before I found a way of living my life in the present, I had no way of deflecting concerns about what might or might not happen in the future. It was a feeling that I had of dread, brought about by an understanding that the world was happening to me and that I was powerless to do anything about it, and my life as a result was going to implode.

Through my development, through Integral Coaching and my own onward reflections and study following the guidance I receive, I have become aware again of my readybrek glow and I feel that I have a certain level of protection/resilience, which I have not experienced for many, many years.

This readybrek glow, my soul now re-claimed within me, tells me that I do not have to react to news that my boss is leaving as if the world is about to end, but instead to be curious, perhaps even excited about what the future will bring.

In other words, my readybrek glow is protecting my soul from spoiling this moment, my life today because of what may or may not happen tomorrow.

My next blog will be: Olympics

William Defoe

Duty     by Ellen S. Hooper

Have you ever noticed how difficult it can be to see your own reflection in a steamed up mirror?

I think that the effect condensation has on my reflection in a mirror, is a good metaphor for living a life where self does not acknowledge truth.

The outline is barely recognisable and the purpose obscured whilst the condensation blocks the view of my face.

If you stand for a while, the mist over the reflection will lift, but I have never had the patience to wait, so a towel or my elbow or hand would wipe away the dampness to reveal a less than perfect view of my visage, peeping through the dispersed droplets of water on the mirror.

My journey to self started with that same obscured view of self. I had lost sight of who I was, and I was too afraid to find out or acknowledge to myself, and those I love, what in fact I looked like (on the inside).

In a state of fear and anguish, I settled for a life of obscurity for many years and my frustration boiled over into anger, resentment with myself, and those whom I love, and I also experienced isolation, as I rejected their offers to help me.

I have noticed that if you open a window in the presence of condensation, the mist will lift cleanly and more speedily.

If you have the window open whilst a bath is being run,  or during a shower, the mist won’t appear in the mirror at all.

My eventual decision to confide the truth about my feelings for my own sex, to my wife was like opening a window – at last my image and truth was revealed in the mirror of my life.

My next decision I took was to invest in my own development, through Integral Coaching, and this is like having a shower with the window open, because in focusing on living in the present I am unlikely to lose sight of self.

[This piece is my 200 post – these posts are a key part of my journey to know self and express self and knowing that I have some readers out there all over the world, liberates me from my isolation and fear and connects me to you all – thank you].

My next blog will be: Duty

William Defoe

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

I’ve been trying to lose myself, or is it actually better described as, trying to find myself, in the beautiful words of Mary Oliver in her poem Wild Geese.

It draws me into the essence, of what has been at the heart of my struggle, which is to be able to accept myself for who and what I am, not to repent of it but in the beautiful words of Mary Oliver to “love what it loves”

It draws me into the invitation of the world, to claim my legitimate place within it, as who I am, not who I have been expected to be by those who have claimed a right over me, and even harder still, from my own conditioning of self, which won’t allow me to break free.

It draws me to the suffering of others, and allows me to contemplate that my struggle has parallels in all living things in the world, whoever we are.

It draws me to this concept of huge physical space, in which my emotional life can flourish, so that across the landscape of the world to the sky above and the deep waters below, I can bring myself, and my truth, as an equal part of all the wonders of creation.

It draws me to my spiritual life, my faith now seen as a liberator, no longer a tormentor – my faith has not undertaken a change but my attitude to its as a harsh judge – an unjust judge and unfair judge has been swept away through my tears to a connection that God loves me in the fullness of my truth, and nothing can change that now or ever.

It draws me to freedom – the freedom of the Wild Geese soaring above calling out to the world and each other – I have lived a life of serious inhibition of freedom to thrive because of the hurt, the fear, the anguish and the immense emotional struggle which has held me back – no more will it be like that for me.

My next blog will be: Condensation

William Defoe

For the last three years I have been focused on living in the present moment.

This means, in short, not being continually crushed by the past or caught frozen in the headlights of fear in respect of the future.

The English language allows the use of the word “present” in two contexts, the first being the word for time which is now, and the second is used as another way of referring to a gift.

I have been pondering over interchanging the use of both meanings of the word “present” in my own journey to live a life in the present moment, and in thinking of the present time as a gift it has the effect of making me reflect on making each moment of my life count.

What I mean by this, is not that every moment is full of joy and happiness, which is unrealistic, but that each moment is appreciated for what it is, be it either light or shade.

If I am living the present moment, reflecting on events which are not bringing new meaning to the present constructively, then I need to be aware of its impact on me and those around me who have so often suffered the consequences of my frustration.

I have managed to come to a new understanding of self and of the needs of others through my periods of reflection each day.

Sometimes I have felt agitated even in that peaceful setting when the issues I have been grappling with do not seem to provide me with answers.

The gift of the present is accepting the place where your thoughts or conversations have brought you to in the present, and appreciating that managing emotions and not reacting to the frustration of unresolved difficulties makes it easier in the longer term to return to these narratives at different times on the onward journey.

The present gives us the promise of future gifts of wonderful present moments, if we can find the capacity within us to be calm.

My next blog will be: Wild Geese

William Defoe

There are occasions when sudden news seems to have the effect of suspending my progress, in my desire to be present.

My wife told me this week, that our daughter is moving out to live with her boyfriend.

Although I did not react in a negative way  to this news, nonetheless it has affected my peace of mind.

The problem I am learning to overcome, is that the world that my adult children know, is very different to the one I had imagined it would be.

As part of my journey to accept my own reality in the world, which I suppressed for many years, I have also had to overcome my tendency to control and interfere in there lives.

It seemed so easy when they are young children.  They were happy to get up each Sunday and go to Mass with you – in fact they loved it.

They were happy to say that they are a Catholic and you feel secure that your values and ideas of living a life of faith, in a secular world are being transferred to them, as easy as copying data down onto a floppy.

My dreams consisted of handing on my faith to my children. I wanted to see them marry and then have children (in that order) and then in their turn pass on their faith to my grandchildren.

I observe that those in other faiths than my own, seem to be making a better job of it that I seem to have done.

The pull of the world has been too strong for my children to resist and for me to hold back.

Worse than that, as the tension built up between my adolescent children’s desires to express themselves, and my tendency to control and restrict that freedom, I have suffered the loss of their love and respect and now although I am outwardly calm, I weep and mourn their loss – it feels like a grief.

I have learned through my development of self to be with the pain – not to pretend it is not there, but to be with it, to pray over it, to feel it in my body, to think about it and to let my silent tears be a reminder of my capacity to care.

I know that what I am experiencing is a conflict of values, not a judgement on me in my role as a father.

My daughter loves her boyfriend and wants to live with him.

I love my daughter and I want her to be happy.

I can see that our values are different, but they do not have to be in conflict.

I am determined that I will do all I can to assist my daughter and her boyfriend in their chosen way of being together and I will do it gladly and I will do it with love.

My next blog will be: Is it a present or a gift?

William Defoe