Time to teach?

At the tender age of 27, I think I've amassed my fair share of life experiences. Any human who is in their 28th year will have lived at least 9855 days, plus leap years, plus time spent in the womb, plus however many days since their birthday (in my case, 19). That gives a total of about 10,150 days on planet earth in this particular body.

Ten thousand days! Ten thousand?! Wow. That just makes me think that what I was going to write is even more pertinent.

I went on holiday with Nige last week, camping in Somerset, which is a beautiful part of England. We rode our bikes, cooked on the camping stove, fumbled about in the tent, watched swallows divebombing and showing off above us, saw beautiful views, climbed hill after hill after hill on our bikes, and ate a lot - and I mean a lot - of cake, ahem, food.

And on the Wednesday of the holiday, exactly halfway through, I received a text from a friend and colleague: "Hi hun, sorry to do this on your hols, but you might want to check your work email x"

In an instant, life had changed. I knew. I just knew. The government have cut the programme, which means I'm out of a job', I thought. And that was indeed what had happened.

It's been interesting and a bit upsetting today to see my colleagues - creative, brilliant people - discussing via email how best to manipulate the situation so that the impending redundancy we're all facing is delayed by as long as possible. I've read words like 'furious', 'devestated' and 'disappointed', and I suppose that for me, the last one of these is the most applicable. Writing up thousands of words to summarise the last four months' work today left me with a sense of disappointment, a despondency that I know masks the only thing that's ever really going on when I'm not in Love - fear.

And here, in this place of uncertainty, in the vacuum, on the precipice of the unknown, I have a choice. It appears as if I have many choices. Do I apply for this job, or that one? How can I ensure that I'm not put in this position ever again? How can I barricade myself against this place of vulnerability, where I don't know where my rent money will come from in two or three months' time (is that apostrophe in the right place? I never know when it comes to writing days' or months' time. I think that because I'm writing about plural months, the apostrophe is in the right place, but there's a nagging gap in my knowledge of the English language here. Also, what is a split infinitive? You wouldn't think I'm an English graduate and qualified English teacher! Any illumination gratefully received)

I have decided to use this experience as a stepping stone, to help me move forward on my path of exploring Elloaness and what that means in a tangible way in my life. Now is a time for faith, for trust, and for action. A time to reflect, to set an intention, and then to take small but definite steps towards a new vision for the future, whilst remaining grounded in the present, alive and awake and aware of what's happening within and around me. I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. Losing a job is not the end of the world. On a worldly note, I think it shows me that I don't want to work in the public sector again, as I said earlier, because it seems so unstable. You're under the thumb of the system, or of whichever people are pulling the strings. Scrap this programme! Start that one! No, no, no, we don't like that one anymore - get rid of that one too!

And to think that I still debate becoming a trained school teacher. The more I am exposed to it, the less I want to do it.

Which leaves me... where? Here, in the now, exploring deep questions about my purpose on this planet, in this body, with this life.

I am Elloa and I have lived over 10,000 days! 
I think that's quite an achievement. And the reason I re-opened my already turned off computer this evening is this: because I realized that I might live another ten thousand before finally surrendering to what it is my heart wants to do. I've struggled over the years trying to define what that 'thing' is, trying to give it a shape and a name and a job description, and I don't think it has any of those things. But if I was to give it a title, it would be Teacher of God, a term used in A Course in Miracles, a term which strikes my ego as being terribly arrogant but which I have resonated with ever since I first encountered it.

I don't want to live my life on the outskirts of my dreams. I want to live boldly, courageously, creatively. I want to reach for the stars, to open this huge, expansive heart of mine and invite the human race to come in and have a cup of tea for a while, forget about the race and just be. I love people, and I love being a part of a community, especially a community of people taking responsibility for their lives and their experiences. In a few short years, I've done this in so many different ways - 12 steps groups, Esalen, church, Clearmind. And in my heart I want to continue with this, and I want to be one of the people teaching, holding the space, and facilitating transformation and healing for people brave enough and willing enough to take steps, just as I have done and, I hope, continue to do.

My ego is utterly derisive towards the thought of me being a workshop teacher or leader. Who the hell do you think you are?, it snidely spits out. Mother bloody Teresa? You're a phoney Elloa Barbour, a huge fake, and you have nothing to give. You're a mess! Look at you - you're jealous, insecure, whiney, negative, moany, and you've clearly got no self discipline - look at how much chocolate you've gorged on today. 


And yet... and yet... A still, small Voice whispers softly to me in the midst of my imperfectness. It says to me, Elloa, sweet Elloa, you are a brave and honest soul. You are sensitive, and caring, and gentle. You hold the space beautifully for people in their shame, their pain. The reason you can do this is because you've lived through so much shame, guilt, fear and pain yourself, and you've let yourself be loved through it all. To want to give this back is not arrogant or selfish - to not want to do this is the real tragedy, and if you choose not to do it, that's really okay, too.


None of it was in vain, beautiful Elloa. You have a clear and definite purpose, and nothing has happened to you by accident. All of it can be used for Love's purposes. You were born to live and teach. Everybody teaches, and teaches all the time. You have the right to step up and say that you too are a student and teacher of A Course in Miracles. In fact, the world desperately needs its children to do this, to embody their authentic, creative, innocent selves. Be not afraid to shine, to make mistakes. But also, dear sweet one, also be aware that it is perfectly okay for you to get it right, to be led by your intuition, by the Voice that invited you to go to your first ever meeting, to take your first every workshop, to tell Nige your feelings for him, to share your darkest secrets and find they have no power over you. Be still, rest in quiet, and know that I am with you, and that everything is unfolding perfectly.


This Voice! Can you see how clearly it speaks to me! And I spend so much of my life trying not to listen to it, trying to maintain allegiance instead to that other voice, the one that always speaks first, that labels things as 'ridiculous', that tells me I'm 'fucking useless', that accuses my best friend of not loving me, that always looks for the guilt and the separation.

I'm getting an ever-clearer feeling and sense that my next step won't be to 'get' a job doing x, y and z for an employer. Somehow, something different is going to come into my life, and I think I might have a big part to play in manifesting it. I've been so scared to truly stand up and say, yes, this is me, and I'm ready to put my heart and soul into being and doing what I love, and to get paid for it. But perhaps, perhaps, with the redundancy is coming an empowered, regenerated vision.


I've lived ten thousand days. Surely I am ready to begin creating? I am ready to embark on the road to nowhere that passes everywhere on its way.


And with that, I sign off for the evening, not bothering who might read this, or when, or whether any of it comes to pass. Tonight it's simply been enough that I listen to my heart and write it all out.


Love,
Elloa xxxxxx