I have the luxury of a 45 minute drive home from work everyday.

I did not always see this time as a luxury, in fact there was a time when it felt like a waste of time and the traffic could be so frustrating as I felt pressure to reach home.

During my journey of self acceptance I have come to realise that this time alone is precious. A great array of activity comes into my mind which calls for my attention.

Sometimes I laugh at the replay of an event that happened today or at some memory that wants to be aired in my consciousness.

Often I cry – perhaps shed a tear is a better explanation of this experience – because some happy or sad thought has commandeered the space in the silence that I have provided for it.

So, Driving Home, I put behind me the pressures of today, and I plan a little for tomorrow so that when my car arrives at my home, I can enter that safe space, calmer, and more able to listen to the concerns of my family who have not had the advantage of my drive home!

My next blog will be: Shirley Valentine

William Defoe

I am beginning to emerge from a difficult period, which, on reflection, has lasted since the end of summer.

A deep routed vein in my troubled emotional life, is a feeling that I am not loved by those whom I believe ought to love me. 

I have observed recently, very clear evidence that in fact I am very much loved by my wife, my daughters, my ageing parents, my brothers and sisters, my close friends and even work colleagues through words I hear about their love and respect for me, the acts of kindness they direct towards me and the efforts they make, even when I make the going very difficult indeed.

So, I have observed that I am loved, but I still don’t feel it. 

I don’t feel it because of a barrier which I have constructed, during many years of experiencing pain, fear and isolation and if I want to feel the love that I have observed, I need to start the work of deconstruction!

The way I think I can start this work is to live in the present (not the difficult past!) and be calm and giving of my truth – I encourage you to do the same if you, like me,  want to feel the love!

My next blog will be: Driving Home

William Defoe

On my journey of self acceptance I have been encouraged to find a place of calm in a life that has often been punctuated by periods of stress, anxiety, feeling unhappy and anger.

I referred in an earlier blog to my practice of “sitting” which involves sitting still for  a few minutes and listening to the rhythm of my breathing whilst at the same time being in touch with my physical reality – my body – and that I am not just a thinking emotional head but a human body with a rightful claim to be in the world around me.

I experienced,whilst I knelt down at Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve,a further dimension to my being which was a very deep spiritual aspect of my life which was thrilling and calming which has lasted through the whole of Christmas.

I am not just a head of feelings and emotions – you, like me are a physical being and a spiritual being – I intend to keep these dimensions of my life in the present during my life – and can you do the same?

My next blog will be : Feeling Loved

William Defoe

I have been observing lately about the difficulty that “Choice” in our lives can bring.

As children many of our choices are made for us and then as we grow and mature the choices that we make have a profound influence on how we make progress or cope with setbacks throughout our lives

I think that now, in middle age, it would be nice to live a life with settle choices – most people will have made career choices and relationship choices and made the odd change here and there along the way.

Why is it then that the availability of choice in my life is causing me pain and anxiety at this time of my life – is it explained by a mid-life crisis – well I’ve had one of those before, so why now?

It is the choice of staying true to my values and  looking forward to new relationships with established family and ,who knows, future grandchildren and the alternative choice which is to succumb to my sexuality and reach out for an alternative way of living.

Maybe there is no choice at all – maybe live can be all encompassing!

My next blog will be: Midnight Mass

William Defoe

Earlier this week I read a very poignant article on the BBC website about how difficult is is for some of us to enjoy the Christmas and New Year festivities and how one woman –  a mother – had to fake her enjoyment for the sake of her children!

The article resonated with me very deeply because the feelings of hurt and disappointment and fear cannot be somehow put into a box until January 2nd, and yet despite all that, many of us do try to fake it for the sake of others often at great personal cost.

Also last week, I regrettably let the full force of my anger and despair be directed to my brother who after many weeks actually noticed my pain and offered to help – too late and I let go a torrent of anger at him – better I think to have faked it!

My next blog will be: Choice

William Defoe

Earlier this week I had the pleasure of visiting a German Market which has been created for the Christmas season in one of our big UK cities.

My wife and I queued in the rain to gain access to the beer tent where on gaining access we were greeted by the most raucous joyous atmosphere that I can remember being a part of for a very long time.

We stood to the side of the long tables with our steins of beer packed with revelers of all ages who were drinking and singing and swaying and laughing and having enormous fun. I felt overwhelmed by the spectacle in front of me but quite separate from it. I could have joined in but I wanted to be a spectator of this scene.

I felt in that moment very aware of the pain  and anguish that I have carried in my life but its presence in my thoughts at that happy time were a feeling of pain that although passed has left a deep scar which demands to be acknowledged.

I acknowledge and honour the pains and sadness of my life but in that German Market I united with the revelers in being present to the joy of being a part of something bigger than us all and I sang my heart out with the rest of them after refilling our steins!

Happy Christmas! – God Bless the people of the UK and of Germany too!

My next blog will be: Faking It!

William Defoe

I was recently walking alone along a busy road in one of our big cities when I heard a young woman say to her friend as I passed “He looks Gay!”

I could not be certain that the comments were in reference to me, but I was wearing a rather trendy jacket with the collar up across my face with a bit of scarf showing through and a gorgeous pair of woolly gloves so I decided I’d take the comments as my own! 

What struck me about the comments were that they were absolutely true and yet I walk in this world most of the time hiding my truth. I feel invisible even to my family and friends but not to my wife because she knows my truth.

There was a time when I would have been absolutely crushed that messages about me that I wanted to suppress were somehow being picked up.

On this occasion I wanted to shout out – “yes I am Gay and thanks for noticing” – “thanks a lot love for noticing my truth!”

My next blog will be: German Market

William Defoe

Recently as I waved my wife off on a trip to London with her friend, for a birthday treat which I had provided for her, I experienced a very sudden rush of tears as the train left the station and disappeared from my sight.

I was struck by the suddenness of the emotion and perhaps, like me, you carry a secret anguish that means that tears are never far away – suppressed even, but on this occasion the tears were not from that place so why did I cry?

I forced myself to think about why I had cried. She was only going for the day and I wasn’t concerned about her safety etc –  I realised that the tears sprang from my witnessing her happiness as she waved goodbye.

Her gratitude and her love in that brief moment as I waved goodbye to her, told me that one of the ways that I can experience happiness is to treat her well, as she deserves, and spend the day looking forward to her embrace on her return.

I dried my eyes – “have a good day my love” – I’ll be stood on the platform tonight to welcome you home.

My next blog will be – He looks Gay!

William Defoe

Earlier this year at the end of May, I visited Westward Ho with my wife and daughter for a few days.

Westward Ho is situated in North Devon facing westwards to the Atlantic Ocean and I was surprised to learn that the town is named after the title of a very famous novel of the same name by Charles Kingsley rather, than as I had thought, the town name being an inspiration for the author.

This blog is about how during my visit I experienced a very deep calm by “painting” with pencils.

On arriving on holiday I realised that I had forgotten my watercolours which was a shame because I had hoped to find a little spot on which to paint the magnificent sea and vast expanse of sand which I recall having seen on a previous day long visit to Westward Ho a few years ago.

After a few days of dodging the showers and visiting other local beauty spots at ilfracombe; Woolacombe; Bude and Clovelly and the funicular at  Lynton and Lynmouth with my daughter who then left us after a long weekend with us, I felt a bit at a loose end and my wife suggested that I buy some paper and colouring pencils.

My wife has recognised that when I am employed in painting a watercolour she senses that I experience a calm that she is acutely aware of. I was not sure that substituting paints for pencils would have the same effect but I became engrossed in the beautiful scene.

It is a feeling of losing oneself in the midst of an activity which is on the one hand occupying the mind in translating what I see on the page but at the same time experiencing an enriching assault on all the senses of sight, sound, touch and smell.

My wife says that when I read, I don’t concentrate for long, but when I paint my breathing is calmer, the continuing inward struggle of my life is calmed and she loves the effect that the experience has on me.

As I emerge from my occupation, I sense that she is watching me so I hold out my pencil as if I am engaged in some marvelously technical aspect to do with perspective and light and shade – I laugh and she laughs too realising that I am back with her having been lost to art.

I must also say that I experience a pride in my drawings / paintings not because they are particularly good, rather perhaps that in their imperfections there is a reflection of my truth because the work is of me and it is an honest interpretation of what I have experienced in that calming hour and a momento for me of my short stay in Westward Ho!

If like me you struggle to find peace of mind, ask Father Christmas for some paper; paints and brushes and a set of pencils too – just in case!!

My next blog will be:   Why did I cry as I waved goodbye?

William Defoe

Dear Daughter

Preparing for this post has brought back painful memories for me.

I also realise that by looking back over the times I have failed you as a parent by reacting strongly to contain your beautiful and vibrant nature, I overlook to blend in the many times when I was good.

I have come to realise through my own journey of self discovery and self acceptance for bringing my own truth to the world, that I am able to recognise your truth as well.

You are different to me, but you are essentially of me!

I had always thought that I was trying to bring you up as a replica of myself in relation to an outlook on life and particularly in matters of faith. It was all so clear to me, how it was going to be and when you started to challenge that perspective I reacted strongly to contain you.

I allowed you, my dear precious darling daughter to become estranged from me in ways of thinking and being. We were awkward and argumentative in each others presence, but worse by far were the periods of silence – at least when we shouted at each other we were connecting – in the silence, the gulf between us seemed unbridgeable and I have mourned so much over your loss to me. I thought you were lost to me forever. I was wrong.

You moved into your own life and at first I grieved when you left home, but you were the one with the strength of conviction to say “I will stand on my own two feet”. You created for us both, some space to grow and understand ourselves and each other.

I have learned to accept you for being who you are – beautiful, smart, clever and energetic with a youthful zest for life, You seem happy, and oh that makes me so happy! – how can I not be happy when you are happy?

Dear daughter I am so proud of you and all that you have achieved and all that you will go onto achieve in the life that you choose to lead – I rejoice when I catch on to the difference in the way that you express yourself – I laugh inside that I can accept this – there is nothing bad about you – you are simply being wonderful you!

I had wanted you to conform, as I had done to the expectations of your family.

I rejected my truth to conform to the expectations of others and I was desperately unhappy.

I risked, through my behaviour towards you at times, of condemning you to the same fate – but you stood up to me and said NO!

For a number of years we managed between us, to spoil all the special times by alienating each other in our battle of will. It was difficult to look forward to anything.

Now I am able to delight in your difference. At your core is everything I hoped that you would be, but you are deliciously unique and oh so special and I rejoice in your truth.

Last week you sent to me a text that ended with the words “Lots of Love” – it was in response to my agreement to your request for help which I was delighted to give. You said that I had provided the means for you to experience something on your “bucket list” (Aren’t I supposed to be the one with the bucket list?) – I have given freely before, but never have I felt the warmth of your gratitude for it like I did last week.

I cried – I read it again and again and I cried and I cried because I think dear daughter, you are coming back to me with your love, which I thought for so long, that I had lost.

My next blog will be: Westward Ho!

William Defoe