When the Rain Came

Tags

barrels, contained, fear of living, freedom, letting go, mental freedom, metaphor, not recognising freedom when it comes, rain, relationships, self-knowledge, waiting for certain conditons to be put in place before living your life

Credit: Google Images

As usual we were not prepared. But that was our way and this is not to say that our actions lacked forethought in any way, but that we had become so accustomed to the way things were, we knew only what we knew and that had been sufficient in its own way to deal with the vicissitudes of life. Strife was rife, and though the battle ground was real, the laughter that we shared, became a place  where we could safely repair our armour, sharpen our wits as well as our spears to dent the onslaught of fears which like flood waters burst their dam and threatened to strike more often than we would have liked.

We plotted and planned, planned and plotted, dotted the ‘I’s and crossed the ‘T’s, and in our dreams subjected ourselves to living a life of constant ease. When the rain comes we said, things would be different. A life well-spent was our intent and bent on this and very little else, we kept an eye on the gathering storm clouds and would not allow the passage of time to dampen our resolve. We learned to make do with the drought and thought we ought to place our barrels in a place where when the rain came, not a drop would be lost. We bought enough barrels and damn the cost – what price our hopes and dreams?

When the rain came, so entrenched were we, we failed to see the raindrops. We did not hear the pitter-patter of freedom drumming on the window panes. And it pains me now to say that we did not fling the doors open wide and dance unreservedly upon the thirst-ridden earth now slowly, thankfully, surrendering to the watery saviour, releasing all that was bound and giving life anew.

~ Marie Williams – 2017

If

Tags

emotion, healing, judgement, laughter, love, mental health, mental strength, self-knowledge, strength, the mind, therapy, thoughts, weakness

Source: Google Images

If the things that mattered to you
No longer matter to you
Then there must be something wrong:
It doesn’t mean that you’re not strong

If the things that mattered to you
No longer matter to you
And you cannot find the love that you seek:
It doesn’t mean that you are weak

If the things that matter to you
No longer matter to you
On finding that laughter has lost its way:
It doesn’t mean that you have feet of clay

If the things that mattered to you
No longer matter to you
Search the chambers of your mind
Keep delving until you find

The things that mattered to you
They still matter to you
Your mind sometimes feels the strain
And troubles can be a source of pain

So that the things that mattered to you
No longer matter to you
When things go wrong:
It doesn’t mean that you’re not strong.

~ Marie Williams – 2017

Life Sentence

Tags

acceptance, escape, future, healing, letting go, metaphor, past, reflection, self-knowledge, taking back control, therapy

Life Sentence

Source: Google Images

The past was nearly always tense. The future seldom perfect. Life became a sentence imprisoning subject and predicate: which often times were punctuated by dashes, question marks and ellipses …
The full-stops when they came were soft and sudden. They crept up slowly behind, blocking the way, preventing progress of any kind and making the escape route barely visible: an abrupt pin-prick in a confusing world.

Clear and present danger alleviated, those dots and dashes now form the much longed for and welcome SOS signalling pathways, prising open those prison bars, and like innocent inmates – embracing freedom – make a dash for the exit vowing to colonise the state of freedom.

~ Marie Williams – 2017

“It’s Good to Talk …”

Tags

awareness, compassion, counselling, counsellor, creativity, emotion, fears, healing, journey, Julius caesar, letting go, mental health, mind, opportunity, pain, self-knowledge, therapy

Image: Courtesy of TheCrazyBagLady

HEALING HURT
(Talking Therapy)

In moments of pure fantasy
And wild imagination
I fancy that Karen could be
Just distantly
Related to Julius!

But I’m rudely awakened
And snap back to reality
As beaming, in black she beckons me
To her small but cosy surgery

Karen Caesar sees me as
Her work in progress
She’s dedicated to releasing
And decreasing the pressure

That calls me religiously
Each fortnight on a Friday
To discuss with some intensity
The demons that bind me

For Karen Caesar
Explained her calling
At the end of a session
Which begged me to question

The degree of her ability
To address the responsibility
Of dealing with healing
The complexity of the human psyche

Karen Caesar tells me
That caring seized her
From a very young age
And at the stage

Where she felt that
She was able to lend her
Tender, and compassionate bearing
To caring for victims
Whose minds were so painfully hurting

It’s a splendid opportunity
This talking therapy
To engage with a professional
As dedicated as Karen
Caesar, who certainly aspires

To deliver with some certainty
A tireless and dedicated approach
And unstinting efficacy

To help her patient,
Speak, cry or remain silent
In her surmountable journey
Of feeling, healing and self discovery!

Dedicated to Dr Karen Caesar

This poem was written eight years ago, but I thought it tied in nicely with my posts on agoraphobia which having spanned 17 years of my life to date has had an enormous impact on my life and the way I live. My counsellor encouraged my creative side which emerged in the form of poetry as I started my healing journey. She said very kindly when we parted after a year in counselling that she would be the first to buy my poems if they were ever published.

I also want to thank TheCrazyBagLady for allowing me to use her sketch in this post. I saw it months ago before I even decided I was going to write about agoraphobia, but I felt at the time that it was such a beautiful sketch that I would one day use it. The opportunity came today and I took it, just as TheCrazyBagLady says on her sketch: “Every day another door opens”.

And to close, in the words of British Telecom (in their sales initiative some years ago): “It’s good to talk…”

~ Marie Williams 2017

copyright Marie Williams – 2009

Agoraphobia: part 2: Professor Green, Talking Therapy and Me

Tags

awareness, child abuse, fears, fun, healing, journey, letting go, Loose Women, mental health, Professor Green, rapper, rapping. laughter, self-knowledge, therapy

Warning: this post contains references to rap which might not be everyone’s cup of tea. But I hope this will not prevent you from reading to the end.

You may remember that in my last post I spoke about agoraphobia and how it impacted my life. Not to go on at length, but to explain how Professor Green (a British rapper, not a University professor) helped me in my own healing process, I would like to share my thoughts with you. I also want to touch on talking therapy/counselling which I really believed saved me during this uncertain and debilitating period of my life.

I was at home watching ‘Loose Women’* on television, and Professor Green was a guest on the programme. Professor Green is a well-known rapper who catapulted to fame in recent years. He is a young man who has documented how his early life impacted the way he is today and how his music reflects this. He grew up on a council estate in London, mainly raised by his grandmother. His father was absent for most of his life. This affected him in many negative ways, but he rose above this to become an international rap star. Professor Green’s father took his own life shortly after he had become reconciled with his son many years later and after he [Green] had become famous. This devastated him and he has since recorded a television programme about suicide in which he speaks openly about his love for his grandmother (who stabilised his childhood) and the impact his father’s untimely death had on his own life.

To get to the point, Professor Green spoke about counselling on Loose Women. He talked about how it helped him come to terms with his ‘demons’. I was incredibly impressed and touched at how openly this young man spoke about his own experiences with mental health issues that I listened with more interest than usual. Having my own mental health issues (PTSD, chronic anxiety and agoraphobia) his thoughts resonated with me.

Here comes the rapping! Those of you who have had the ‘pleasure’ of watching last year’s ‘X Factor’ will get a better feel of what I’d like you to do if you watched Honey G’s performance as a contestant. Honey G would rap saying:

“When I say Honey, you say G”, and this would be repeated many times, depending on how the audience received it. It went down really well. If you like that sort of thing. It’s a matter of taste. So here is my version:

When I say: ‘Professor’ you say: ‘Green’
Me: When I say Professor
You say: Green!
Me: When I say Professor
You say: ‘Green’

I was sittin’ in my home
All alone
got no friends
To call my own
Wanting someone to pick up the ‘phone
give me a call
so I don’t drown
In my sorrows
On my own

Me: When I say Professor
You say: Green!
Me: When I say Professor
You say: Green!

Mental health
has got a bad rap
That’s why I’m gonna
Put it on the map!
Shout it loud
and shout it clear
Mental health
There’s nothing to fear!

Me: When I say Professor
You say: Green
x2

I hope you managed to get a rhythm going. That helps! I hope Lady G and Tareau weren’t the only ones rapping along with me. Were you rapping Hariod? Anna?

Seriously, Professor Green was instrumental in getting me back on the road to recovery. He not only talked about how counselling helped him in his darkest periods, but he went on to say that although his situation was much improved, he still used counselling as therapy whenever he felt he needed it. And consequently, he was at present in therapy. Those words propelled me into action. If Professor Green was on daytime television, advocating counselling and he was not ashamed or embarrassed, what say me?

After the programme, I immediately went on-line to research counsellors in my area. I was very fortunate to find someone who has been incredibly helpful and who has allowed me to see that my case is not hopeless. That was over one year ago and I haven’t looked back since. Thanks Professor Green! I am not going to suggest that a few trips to a counsellor will make everything better. It takes time. It takes a willingness to partake in your own healing. It takes courage. It takes persistence. It takes faith. Often time, it can seem there is no light at the end of the tunnel. I’d like to encourage those who feel that there is no way out, that I found mine, and you can too.

~ Marie Williams 2017

* ‘Loose Women’ is a day-time television programme in which a panel of women discuss current topics.
– Final Part 3 to follow

The Wise Woman’s Stone

Tags

awareness, beggar, Christmas, coin, communication, compassion, gift, giving, hungry, money, precious stone, security, self-knowledge, stone, therapy, traveller, wisdom

Lately I find I having been giving a lot. I don’t know whether I am especially aware of this because it is the season for giving, or if something has triggered something deeper within me. But I think the act of giving, whether it is in recognition of a celebration, ie a birthday, charity, a good cause, Christmas or something like that is actually beneficial to the soul. I personally feel such joy and contentment when giving or sharing that I’m sure that internally, physically there is a way the body responds by removing toxins and releases feel good chemicals which flood the body and in turn makes you feel much healthier. You can probably tell that this is my own clumsily conveyed take on what giving means for me. I don’t make any claims to expert scientific knowledge.

Earlier this year, someone approached me telling me that he had to get to work and he had no money for his fare to get there. He said he had seen me, and that he had thought about it a long time, and he knew that I looked like a ‘kind lady’ and that I would help him. After much questioning, I gave him some money to get to work for the whole week. He thanked me profusely and bestowed many blessings upon me. I did wonder if he was genuine, but I thought if he is trying to con money out of me, then that is his problem and not mine. I felt better for giving and helping someone who I believed needed help. I like to think that if I had been in the same position, help would be forthcoming.

Two days ago at the train station, a beggar approached me, dirty, dirty clothing, in need of care and attention and I gave him some money. He had run up to me hand outstretched as I stood in the queue at a cake shop. I had a few bags and had to shift them around to get into my handbag to find my purse. He stood waiting patiently, hand still outstretched while I tried to get my money out. He had no idea if I was going to give him any money at all because I did not say anything, just rustled around with my bags. I eventually found my purse which had some change (lots of pennies) and one shiny £2 coin which I had been saving and did not want to spend because it was so shiny. Call it one of my foibles! I had no other change (apart from some notes), so I gave him my shiny coin which had been in my purse for months, while I broke into pound notes in order not to spend it. So you can see how much it meant to me. I gave the beggar/homeless person the coin which he eagerly took, blessed me considerably and ran off into the crowd. I felt good. I didn’t even mind about giving him that particular coin.

I discovered this story around Easter time, this year. I was actually looking for something else on the Internet, but came across this and it resonated with me. I hope it does the same for you.

The Wise Woman’s Stone

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime. But a few days later he came back to return the stone to the wise woman.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, “I know how valuable the stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone.

~”The Wise Woman’s Stone” ♥
Author Unknown

Guidance

Tags

communication, compassion, emotion, fears, flowers, harmony, healing, heart, journey, metaphor, nature, poetry, prose poetry, self-knowledge, therapy

Image: Google Images

Guidance

When I’m floundering fixedly on facing fears; fully aware of my shortcomings, I find you pointing proudly in the direction that I should go. Don’t you know that if I go, I go with the knowledge that I am not enough out there on my own? My needs are not necessarily manifold, but many are they and they won’t go away without first feeding that part of me which hungers for your staunch support; stepping in line with me.

So when you point, please don’t point with those elegant finely forbidding fingers. Instead, firmly hold my hand, grasp it lovingly and lead me along the path where the bluebells grow, dancing in freshly fallen snow, in the chill wind of April’s noon-day sun.

~mew

Soul Lessons

Tags

forgiveness, freedom, healing, letting go, life lessons, pardon, peace, prose poetry, rules, school of life, self-knowledge, trials

“When hate has legislated, love is an act of rebellion”
Source: Origin South African, author unknown

This school is different to other schools that I have ever known. The curriculum is somewhat hazy and is nowhere written down. I’m expected to turn up each day with a smile upon my face, my shoes polished and my laces not undone. My uniform is whatever I choose to wear that day and I cannot say that it is one that others green of eye will be wearing the very next day. So come what may, some unseen force has planned that I should stay in school until all the lessons that I need to learn are well and truly learned.

There are no classrooms in this school and the rules are made up as I go along, they come down heavily upon me even though I feel I’ve done no wrong. No text books grace the library walls however hard I look, and if I enquire about things of which I’m unsure, the advice I’m given arbitrarily is go and look it up! Through many trials I have come. So many doors shut in my face. I am sometimes told by the principal to go at my own pace. And off she walks heels clicking on the floor, with a smirk upon her face, as if to say, my goodness me, will that child never learn.

Today’s lesson is the hardest I have ever had to learn, and still I know that even though to memory I have committed it, tomorrow when I’m asked what are the basic principles of the act of letting go, my already creased brow will furrow and I will stumble as if I didn’t know. But when alone, with no pressure from those who know, I will say quietly to myself:

Forgiveness does not mean that the other person has not really done anything wrong.
Forgiveness does not mean that you have to forget.
What forgiveness means is that you choose to pardon the wrong.
Forgiveness means that your soul is free no longer chained and restrained.
Forgiveness means that you are stronger for the lesson has been learned.

The school bell tolls and I no longer ask for whom.

~ MEW 2016

The Past

Tags

compass, emotion, healing, journey, memory, pain, past, philosophy, poem, poetry, present, self-knowledge, signpost, therapy

How philosophical the past has become. Everyone seems to have a view on it and it appears to be fashionable to voice it forcibly whether the situation calls for it or not. If you’re feeling blue and you don’t know what to do, some kind soul will undoubtedly advise you to “forget the past and focus on the present”. But I say, remember the past. The past: that vast territory which comes without a map, a compass, signposts and requires spatial awareness of the emotional kind. The kind that binds you to a memory, and drags you to that place, even if that is not where you intended to go. And when you get there, the constantly changing vista is never as you remember it: the pain was always more palpable, the joy jarred gently, words were welts on the prominent pathways of your psyche.

But I say remember the past: The past: that vast territory which needs preparation before you set out on it. So I say: equip yourself with sturdy walking shoes, shoes with a firm grip to keep you grounded, mentally make a map meandering mindfully through tough terrain, view the vista with new eyes, make pain a signpost to avoid and see it covered partially with weed. Strengthen your spatial awareness and eke out exits along the way. Present your passport if required and ensure it is stamped and that your visit has been recorded, so that you know that you have been there and that you can go there again. Be mindful of the knowledge that your journey has been a choice and that there are no boundaries concerning the past. It is a place that will always exist. It may not be sunshine, inky moon-lit nights, leisurely lapping sea on sand, it maybe storm-filled days, biting frost and thoughts of time to throw-the-towel-in, but the past is yours and mine. After all, we have all been there. Haven’t we?

~ MEW

False Smiles, False Conversation

Tags

communication, etiquette, life-lesson, manners, poem, poetry, pretense, respect, self-knowledge, twenty four/seven, vampire

I didn’t like him and he didn’t like me.  That much we understood.  But in order to allow life to run smoothly and not to upset the apple-cart, we pretended that we did like each other.  False smiles, false conversation.  Empty words and empty laughter.  He’d been visiting for a while and I thought she could’ve done better for herself.  Where on earth had she found him?  I called him “The Vampire”.  He only appeared at night after 12.00.  What did he do during daylight hours?  He was very busy I was told.  His busy-ness left me cold.  Sounds to me like a tale of old: she wasn’t that important, but during the night when he was less busy, he could accommodate her.  Not good enough I’m afraid.

And so the story unfolds.  I liked him no better and he liked me no better but things came to a head one night when at a quarter to one he decided to visit.  “Hiyoualright?”  As he slinked upstairs and caught me in the light on the landing.  I think it was meant to be “Hi., how are you?”  But it was a quarter to one and I hadn’t set my vampire clock and was not pleased at all.  No answer came from me, caught as I was in my unsociable attire, where do you think you are going at this time of night, outraged sensibility.

Vexation all around and hurt feelings abound.  Hasty exits and another deposit in the bank of “what’s her problem?”.  And when I’ve calmed down, I try to make amends.  Try to bring it back to false smiles, false conversation, empty words and empty laughter.  The conversation does not go well.  “About the other night … I don’t really like you to visit at unsociable hours… this upset me … would prefer it if you didn’t do that”.  Back came the reply: “You’re unsociable”.  “You’ve never made me feel welcome in your home”.  “Whose fault is it that I’ve been coming here for over one year and you have never tried to get to know me better?”  Followed by: “I don’t care what you think.  You called me, I never called you, so get off the ‘phone”.  Could it have got worse?  Clearly it did.  Now, no false smiles, false conversation, empty words and empty laughter.

 

Lesson

Have respect for others.  Respect their lives and how they choose to live.  Do not presume that because you are on a 24/7 schedule, they are too and if they are not, they are unsociable and unwelcoming.  Try to meet somewhere in the middle and never ever try to justify bad behaviour by blaming the other person  for your own bad behaviour.

~MEW