During many years of suppressing my sexuality within my marriage, I suffered terribly with feelings of guilt about my unspoken truth and the feelings I had for my own sex.

In the three years since I have explained these feelings to my wonderful wife and been accepted by her, I have struggled again to find a way of living in a faithful and loving marriage whilst continuing to feel attracted to my own sex.

I am beginning to sense that the hard work I have invested in my own development to understand my truth, has enabled me to recognise that although I choose to be faithful in my marriage, I am still entitled to my own thoughts.

I am able to recognise that I am responding to my sense of self, and honoring my truth, in feeling the intense attraction and internalizing it, but also in remaining faithful to my wife with whom I have exchanged my vows that neither of us, at this point in time want to break.

My next blog will be: Borderline Hysteria

William Defoe

The terrible violence in France last week brought up in my mind the issue of hate.

When I was a young adolescent boy of about 14 to 16 years old I had a “hate list”

On this hate list were all the names of the people who had in one way or another caused me to feel hurt, angry, rejected, excluded or in some cases I simply did not like them.

Throughout these years, a priest had the misfortune of being at the top of the list – pretty much fixed in that position – for telling me off after a service for holding the crucifix in the wrong position thus distracting him throughout – I was livid!

I have been reflecting on the fact that I could reel off the top ten at a moments notice, but my hate list was not written down as far as I recall.

My family found it extremely amusing when a new person made it onto the list – and here  lies what I believe is a really important fact at the heart of all this – my family knew of the existence of my hate list and they humored me over it.

My father, mentions it now with almost nostalgic delight and all my siblings can name what were the top three names with great amusement (mainly because of the stories behind them all) but I was not aware that my family understood my pain at that time.

For me, I am blessed that I shared my frustration with my family and that the only harm caused by this hate list, was to me, as I struggled to find my place in the world and as I struggled to find my voice and be heard.

We each have to find a way to reach out to those who are marginalised and in pain in our society to prevent their hate turning into terror.

My prayers are for the victims, bereaved and the government and people of France at this sad time.

My next blog will be: When Heaven Looks Down

William Defoe

Picture Credit: http://www.ericpetersautos.com

In my more lucid moments, which now happen with much greater frequency and clarity as a result of regular periods of silent listening to self, I have noticed a pattern.

I have this innate need to feel liked, and when I come up against someone whom I perceive not to like me, I have this urge to resolve it, to make it right.

I am learning to just be with it. It is a challenge, but I am doing quite well at ignoring the impulsiveness to resolve it and settling for living in the discomfort of just being with it.

Kind of curious, kind of questioning, kind of exciting, the just being with it and not trying to mend a perception.

Notice I am talking about perceptions, not necessarily the reality here.

I perceive I am not liked and once I am on to it all manner of signals are used by me to prove my hypothesis.

For the last few months I have been concerned that a person in authority in my workplace, does not like me.

I keep having these feelings of hurt and pain when I allow myself to think that he does not respect me, he does not value me, he’s on to my inner turmoil, how can I overcome this and make everything all right?

The answer, just be with it and to do this, I contextualize the perceived difficulty into the broader context of those whom I know value me, respect me and love me.

William Defoe

My next blog will be: Hate List

Picture Credit: thecaregiverspace.org

I was returning very late one evening from a night out with friends when as I changed trains in a very busy station I noticed a very little boy walking through the station with his father, (I presume).

Nothing in noticing the child was a source of alarm to me, only a feeling that it was way past his bedtime.

Old feelings of being out late as a child surfaced in my mind, and the excitement of the darkness and the streetlights and the feeling of tiredness crowding my little head on those rare occasions.

The child walking through the station, dwarfed by rowdy and intoxicated adults, rushing for their next train or the taxi home, is an image for me of the sense I often have as an adult of somehow I am in an environment in which I do not fit in.

For me, it is an anxious feeling, which in recent years, I have learned to recognise and overcome by continually assuring myself that I belong.

I am a human being, entitled to the space I occupy within my body, within my family, within my community, within the workplace and within the actual space that my physical presence occupies as it moves from place to place.

The little boy, out past his bedtime, was safe in the company of his father, and no doubt would soon be at home tucked up in bed.

I was on my way home too, safe in the knowledge that I belong to those who love me, I have no need to feel scared because I too am safe.

My next blog will be: Just be with it

William Defoe