Tag Archives: Same Sex Attraction

Clumsy Blogging

In my journey to deepen my understanding of self, I have become very much acquainted with my inner critic.

The text books tell you that to overcome the challenges of critic, you must first get to know it.

My inner critic has a habit, which I am increasingly curious about, of telling me that I am falling short of the high standards which I have set myself.

Notice how I say “high standards which I have set myself” – I am constantly assessing myself against a standard which increasingly I am becoming aware is unattainable.

This means that I am over eager to point out my weaknesses to others, to prevent them from pointing them out to me, only to find out that their purpose was to thank me and to encourage me for the work I have done.

Recently, I have felt that my blogging is clumsy. 

Clumsy Blogging!

But, I say, I write from the heart and publish!

On re-reading later, my inner critic tells me that I have repeated myself here, or wasted a paragraph there, or perhaps I ought to have been more succinct on that bit, or that sentence does not make sense, erm – spelling mistake and you checked it through and you still missed it!

My response is to acknowledge the critic, and remind it that I write from the heart, and my clumsy blogging is a reflection of my heart rather than n exercise in literary excellence, so please butt out!

My next blog will be: Sleepless Night

William Defoe

Borderline Hysteria

It is three years since I opened up my truth to those whom I love.

I had lived with a sense of fear and isolation for very many years of my marriage up and until that November day three years ago and I am proud of the fact that, in finding the strength to lose control and take the consequences, I have been able to find peace.

I have not had a big sense this year of re-living the events of those few days in November 2012 and I think that speaks to me of the significant shift I have made in my life to be calm.

When I think of the few years leading up to the moment I admitted my truth to my wife, I sense that I had lived a life of borderline hysteria.

I was often at a pitch of anxiety and unable to cope with the normal things which everyday life throws at all of us.

I recall feeling unwell and unable to cope with issues relating to my children’s struggles at school or routine repairs in the home or with the car which seemed to push me to breaking point on top of pressures at work.

So, I have shifted from borderline hysteria, to being present, to being accessible, to honouring the many aspects of my truth which are not defined exclusively by my sexuality, whilst being better able to respond to the problems of everyday life in a more balanced and measured and thoughtful way.

My next blog will be: Clumsy Blogging

William Defoe

Intense Attraction

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

Hate List

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

Just be with it

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

Past your Bedtime

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

Moving from Failure to Disappointment

I have noticed that I am adjusting to living with elements of disappointment in my life, and that this acceptance of living with disappointment, is a vast improvement on living each day with a sense of having been a failure.

I have lived a substantial part of my adult life, and adolescent life before it, feeling that I had failed.

I have come to recognise through the my development with a coach, that a continued sense of failure is a judgement on self which is harsh, unfair, unbalanced, and in my case a potential threat to my stability within my family and community.

I can recognise the times in my life when I have experienced failure in its proper context, perhaps a job interview or an exam, but these are better classified as a stepping stone to future success next time round, or success in an alternative at a later time – failure and success are true indicators of living in a life of light and shade, in the present.

The sense of disappointment is, for me, a very important sign of my shift from darkness to light. This sense of disappointment is a transient feeling in my life, but I am not defined by it.

I sense that my recent journey to reject failure and embrace disappointment is the important work of accepting self, and because my disappointment is not all encompassing, and is only applied to matters which I now recognise as being in matters outside my control, I am free to live in the present, without the harsh judge telling me that I have failed.

So, I am disappointed with how some things have turned out, well at least I tried – where is the failure in that?

My next blog will be: Past your Bedtime

William Defoe

Picture Credit: Ws Worried Young Man By The River Stock Footage Video | Getty Images 

www.gettyimages.com

Screen-saver

I have recently acquired a new mobile phone following the end of my last contract and the start of a new one.

I like to personalize the screen-savers and usually in the past I have selected a favourite view of the sand and sea from one of our holidays.

As I finished downloading the apps I use, and transferring my contact list and some photos, I was inexplicably drawn to a photo of my wife and I decided to use her image, in that particular photo taken in Scotland last year, as my screen-saver.

“Well what is remarkable about that?” I ask myself

The decision feels important to me. To have her image so readily available to me, not in a pose at a posh event, but an image of her as she appears to me in the everyday of our marriage and the remarkable thing is that her presence in this place makes me feel safe.

My journey to being present, in recent years has had its troubles and difficulties for both of us in the situation in which we find ourselves.

We both are curious about our capacity to sustain our marriage in these circumstances, and for that she is not only my screen-saver, but my life-saver and I love her for it.

My next blog will be: Moving from Failure to Disappointment

William Defoe

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

St Hilda of Whitby

I have noticed, having had direction through coaching, that when I feel overwhelmed by my feelings and emotions, it is because my present moment is being compressed into the story of a single issue.

I have looked for ways in my daily routine, to make sure that I use my new found skills to contextualize my feelings in the present moment, by doing what I can to be expansive in my experience, in the present moment.

A couple of weeks ago, whilst away for a few days in Whitby, North Yorkshire, I attended the Saturday Vigil Mass at the local Catholic Church of St. Hilda’s in Whitby – a beautiful church building with a warm and welcoming group of parishioners.

This expansiveness of thought in relation to my visit, with my wife to that church is two fold:-

  • Firstly, St Hilda is a northern saint, an abbess who lived in the 7th Century AD. Her very name evokes a deep concept of the past at a time when the christian faith was being established in England. [a thought of depth]
  • Secondly, I have always sought out the local catholic church when I have been away on holiday. The rituals of the Mass are the same in every parish, so I have a feeling that I can participate equally with local parishioners, but more than that, I have a sense of the universal church in which the various parishes are in communion with a bishop who is in communion with the Bishop of Rome. [a thought of breadth]

I think any activity which encourages an expansiveness of thought away from a narrow focus, particularly if this is causing pain and anxiety, is good for soul.

After my weekend in beautiful Whitby, I can say that my soul feels refreshed and alive.

My next blog will be: Screensaver

William Defoe

Picture Credit: http://www.genuki.org.uk

Teddybears

My daughter gave me a teddy bear recently.

I am 51 years old, and I accepted the gift with surprising warmth, as such an item had not featured on any wish list of mine that I can recall in recent years.

I haven’t given my new teddy bear a name, but I have strapped it into the middle seat of my car with the lap and diagonal seat belt so I obviously want to care for it!.

This gift has awoken in me, a childhood memory of the three teddy bears which I had as a child which are lost to my past, regrettably.

I had a traditional teddy bear which was blue which I called “Bluey” (the clue is in the name!), a knitted rabbit, which an aunt of mine knit for me as a baby, which I called “Long Ears” and a small elephant which I called “Dinky”

I have had this image in my head of them being with me in my bed and also lined up on my lap whilst dressed in my pyjamas and dressing gown as a young boy, as I watched television before bedtime.

These memories, which I thought were lost to me, have resurfaced in my life with a vibrancy and a wistfulness for my childhood and my innocence.

I am left with a feeling of gratitude to my parents for nurturing me as a child – I was a child – I was safe – I was loved and I loved my teddy bears.

In the present this wistfulness translates into gratitude to my parents for loving me as an adult – I am an adult – I am safe I am loved and …….. I love my new teddy bear !

Okay, Perhaps  I don’t love my new teddy bear just yet, but I’m increasingly fond of it day by day!.

Perhaps it deserves a name? Any ideas?

My next blog will be: St. Hilda of Whitby

William Defoe

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