Episode 2: The Ell & Nige Show!!

Happy 2012ing lovely person!
I hope your year has started with a fizzle and a wiggle and a lot of momentum.

Click here for the latest installment of the unmissable Ell & Nige show - a show like no other!

Make way for love, dear one... make way for love...


Elloa xx

What Matters Now

1. What Matters Now (Inspired by Seth Godin): Think about the here and now. What matters most to you right now? How are you going to nurture what matters in during 2012?

What matters to me right now.

What matters to me right now?

What matters to me is this:

- Nige and my relationship with him. Mighty companions, soft place to land. 

- My work as a teacher. I am finding that the more I teach, the more I realise that living my 'purpose' in this life isn't about reaching or preaching to thousands of people, as my ego would like it to be. It's about the daily connections. It's about me remembering that, as the Buddhists teach, this one in front of me, this one, is brother, sister, mother, father and child to me. We are all connected. The people I am meant to reach, I will meet. I don't need to scramble around anymore, looking for some elusive life purpose when right here, right now, there are so many people who need help remembering the truth about themselves, just like me.

- My friendships. What I don't want you to know is that I feel ashamed of the ways I have behaved at different times this year. What I don't want you to know is that I believe I am a failure at friendships. What I don't want you to know is that sometimes I feel awkward and don't know how to connect, especially with women. What I don't want you to know is that I believe that I am disposable, that people don't really need me to be their friend because there will be someone better out there for them. And yet... and yet you matter to me. And despite the snide whispered evaluation of my worth inside my mind, I have an inkling that deep down, I matter to you too.

- The Clearmind community that I am a part of and the work that we do in that community to remember the truth about ourselves and each other, ACIM style. I am starting to work on the winter issue of The Ripple magazine, and I acknowledge the deep desire that is swelling up from within to create something that will have a deep and powerful ripple effect.

- Choosing to mind the gap. Compulsive eating has reared its head in my life again recently, and what matters to me right now is choosing to walk a path of freedom away from a personal hell. One step at a time.

- My sisters. Rosie, Daisy and Edie, you are so important to me.

- My mum, my dad(s), my grandparents. I intend to stay in touch more in 2012. Starting now.

- Love, love, love.

- GIVING MYSELF AN F-ING BREAK.

- Slowing way down; being here now.

1. Reframing (Inspired by Patrick Rhone): How are you framing yourself and your life? Could you reframe things going into 2012?

I don't know if you've noticed two thought systems running inside your mind. I have. They are both available to me in every moment. One runs on fear, toxicity and shame. The other, love. On any given day, I frame my life according to one of these two mindsets. The way I am currently framing my life looks something like this...

I am heading for financial ruin. (Everything will be just fine.)

I need to find a 'proper' job, otherwise I'm going to end up thousands of pounds in debt. (I'm exactly where you're meant to be. I'm being taken care of - who knows what exciting things are just around the corner!)

I am a bad friend. I don't keep in touch with my friends enough and I don't make an effort to go and see them enough. I am too scared to even pick up the phone and just say hi. (I am kind, loving and loyal. I love my friends. I want to know about their lives. I do the best I can to stay in touch. I recognize that I am afraid to reach out some days, and that is okay. Every moment is a chance to start again.)

My relationship is falling apart. (Only the love is real between us. I can choose again... and again... and again. I am kind, caring and really, really doing the best I can. Relationships aren't easy! So gentleness and a willingness to take a risk to be intimate are vital. Especially gentleness. Being cruel to myself won't help me to be present in my relationship with Nige. Gently does it Ell... you have come from a pretty dysfunctional family, and perhaps this is a time of growing pains. Just keep coming back to love. One step at a time.)

The women's circle I started is not growing because I haven't even bothered to invite anyone else. (You do go on, don't you? Won't you ever give the poor girl a break? No wonder she's not sleeping at night! For your information, the women's circle is going just fine. I am learning with each one, and have learned some pretty big lessons very early on. For this I am grateful.)

I am a total bitch. Look how I treated Nige in the gym the other day. I can't even control my moods. I am worse than a teenager and a toddler. I should know better. (I am innocent. In those moments when I act out, I am simply afraid. I can choose to do it differently. Besides, not every workout has been like that. There is something here for me to see and learn. I am doing the best I can.)

This is how I'm framing my life. This morning I have chosen to give a lot more space, time and thought to the second thought system. Sometimes I feel like the only one that exists is the first one - the one that batters me, tosses me about, hurls me against the same brick wall again and again, slamming my face against concrete and leaving me feeling utterly desperate. But then... then... then I find just one moment of freedom: I glance at the sky, or out to sea. I take a long, deep, conscious breath. I stop and reassure myself. And even if it doesn't sink in, I know this - that somewhere, it does. That love is real, that the fear I feel is of my own making, that it's all make believe inside my head. It is not the outside situation that determines the meaning. It is me who gives meaning to everything that happens in my life. And I am committing to continuing to allow my life to mean one thing: that only the love is real in any situation. 

Only the love is real.

Enough already

I am enough.

I am enough.

i AM ENOUGH

. I AM ENOUGH.

I am enough.

I AM ENOUGH.

I ... am ... E-NOUGH

I

am 

enough.

I am enough.

I am enough!

I am enough

i am enough... enough enough enough

I am enough!

I am enough!!

I am enough!

i am enough, enough, enough.

Just the way I am.

And so are you.

Can you let that in today? Let it sink deeply in. Because it is true.

All Over The Place

I feel all over the place today. I am struggling to settle.

I woke up and my beloved wasn't in bed next to me. Immediately, a wave of sadness and aloneness washed over me. I padded into the living room expecting to find him in a standing meditation. I was greeted by a lit tealight burning in stillness, an angel statue and soft music - but no Nige; only the afterglow of his presence.

Anxious, I headed down the hallway to our second-bedroom-come-office, wondering if he'd gone out on his bike and realizing that I had a real sense of needing to connect with him this morning. Last night something happened which really upset me, core beliefs and deep wounds engulfing my body, heart and mind. I felt lost, alone, unworthy, unloveable, and ashamed as Nige and I drove back home, and it took a long pep talk with myself to coax me into sharing what was going on with him.

I wanted so much to be reassured by Nige this morning, to be held in his arms until all my fears and doubts melted away. Feeling very vulnerable wasn't on my agenda as I headed home yesterday afternoon; I spent the weekend assisting and supporting at a deeply transformative, life-changing, mindblowing workshop and had experienced, given and received so much love that I really wasn't expecting to conclude the whole experience with a sense of overwhelming brokenness.

As I stepped through the doorway into our office, there was Nige sitting at his computer, dressed and ready for work, a poem in front of him on the screen. I stopped, hoping he would stand up and come over to me, give me a hug and say good morning. He turned and looked at me, his face unsmiling, deep in thought, and he didn't get up.

I froze.

A moment of abandonment jolted in my stomach, and I said good morning. He didn't come over to me and I didn't go over to him. He told me he was working on changing a poem he'd written the day before, and read the new final stanza to me. Rejection burning in my solar plexus, I listened and put away socks, jumpers and the last few bits and pieces left over from my weekend. My head felt jarred, and his words hovered emptily in the room. I couldn't connect with them. I retreated into the kitchen, a storm brewing in my body, wondering how I could feel so crazy and disconnected after the utterly incredible weekend I had just experienced.

And all morning, this feeling has stayed with me.

What I don't want you to know is that I feel frightened today. I feel out of control in my life. I am having doubts about everything - about who I am, about what I have to bring to the world, about my worth. I am believing that I have nothing worthwhile to offer, that my contribution isn't wanted, impactful or valuable. I believe today that I am at the bottom of the pile, that I am last on the list, that I am one who gets forgotten about, missed, not seen, heard and loved.

All this despite - or perhaps in spite of - the soulful, authentic, overwhelming connection I experienced this weekend. I belief all this about myself today, despite being in this place just two days ago...

Beautiful Angels whispering words of truth to me - and me believing them

Coming back into my home environment has felt awkward, foreign and scary. An urge to bolt, to run away has risen up from inside my belly, and I have found myself thinking it would be easier to be dead, that somehow I need to be away from this life I am in. That some kind of peace or answer or solace is somewhere other than right here in my life right at this very moment.

If you know this place at all in your own life, you'll know that it is paralysing. Here, there is no breath, no room to create, no flow. Just fear, anxiety, shame, loneliness and sadness.

My very best thoughts and judgements on the world and what I experience in it have left me here - bruised, frightened and paralysed. And yet I know I have a choice. That's what prompted me to write this today. My resources feel depleted and yet I know that a different choice is available to me today, that somewhere inside of me is love and that I can depend on that love. 


So I pour out my worries and fears and know that if peace is my goal, they will dissolve, because my investment in believing them will be less than my desire to return to love.

What I don't want you to know is that I don't know what my next step is. I feel overwhelmed and worry that I'm spreading myself too thin. I am sensing that I need some extra support right now in my life, perhaps in the form of coaching or therapy. I need somewhere I can go and pour out all my worries and fears and confusion. I need some time and space just for me. I need to be able to receive, so that I can continue to let God work through me.

What I don't want you to know is that I have so much inside of me I want to share with the world - with you. A suspicion lurks inside me that I am not ready, that I am still too broken, that I am not capable of teaching or leading, and that I need the approval of certain people in my world before I can have faith and confidence in myself. Last night I looked for that approval and didn't find it - because my secret motive was to prove that I am indeed inadequate and not good enough yet. I have a blossoming mailing list and haven't written a single word to them yet. I have people wanting to collaborate and a sense of deep inferiority. I see how my ego is trying to lure me into failing, as 'proof' of its evaluation of who I am.

And yet... In the middle of this, there is a persistent voice whispering to me that now is the time and I am the one. 


So I am committing to transforming these beliefs, and remembering the Truth about myself.

And the Truth is...

I have a right to write whatever I want to and put it out into the world.
I am enough, just the way I am.
I am safe.
I am exactly where I need to be.
I am a blazing light.
I am beautiful.
I am an incredible teacher.
I am gifted.
I belong.
I am abundant. 
My contribution is valuable and valued.
I am inherently creative.
I am important.
And I am so, so, so loved.


I wonder what all these feeling and fears are really for, then? Deep breaths, and realising that as I take this step in articulating myself, I can in fact rely on myself for soothing, nurturing, reassurance and connection. I don't have to look outside of myself for validation. I don't have to rely on my partner to meet my needs - leaving us both free to actually be in relationship with each other. I know exactly what I need and I am able to ask for that and support myself in moving through fear and returning home to love.

And now, I am feeling grounded, present and peaceful again. So grateful for this space. So grateful I listened to the urge to write this morning. So grateful for you.

Love,
Elloa xx

It's the end of the world as we know it

September 30th 2011: Day 30 of The Forgiveness Project.

What an amazing month it has been. I know I haven't posted as much as I'd have liked to, but believe me, in the last couple of weeks there has been some hardcore healing going on! (Check out my makeover in the picture just below!)

First, there was the baby issue. I got broody, and it was a big deal to begin to discuss that issue with Nige, for lots of reasons, which I wrote about here.

Then there was the jealousy stuff, which arose more than once over the last couple of weeks, including today. When I get jealous, I truly believe that I am being left out, forgotten about, loved less than I was a moment before. It's as if love is a finite substance to be dished out in measured portions, and if I think or perceive that I'm getting any less in this moment than I like or want, out comes the second head, and within a split second I have an uncanny ability to remake myself in the image of Linda Blair in 'The Exorcist'. *shudders*

My new Facebook profile picture

I decided to forgive myself yesterday for not calling one of my elderly gardening clients for weeks on end, and I bit the bullet and called her. Apologising was hard; the guilt I was feeling rose briskly to the surface, glaring at me and telling me I ought to be ashamed of myself. I'd been avoiding that one moment of discomfort for ages, sitting instead with the ongoing sense of disquiet because I had let her down and really, had acted out of integrity. That just didn't sit comfortably with me. So I faced it, and called, and said my sorry, and it wasn't just waved away by her, which told me that perhaps I really had let her down. That was uncomfortable, too. But I am making my amends by taking her out in early November. And I can forgive myself for being imperfect.

What I keep discovering is this: through forgiveness, I have been given the ability to have the world as I know it end, and a new one begin, right in the moment of forgiving. This choice, which often is a shift so infinitesimal that it's barely noticeable, starts with simply being willing to see the situation that I am in differently. When I get stuck, that's all I need to ask myself: am I at least willing to see something different here? My answer is almost always "yes", which paves the way for a different, more empowering, freer and happier choice even before my ego has had a chance to object with "but...". When my answer isn't "yes, I'm willing to see this differently", I can clearly see that what I am saying is, "no, I don't want to see this differently. I am so convinced that I'm right, and I so want to be right that I'm willing to sacrifice my happiness just to prove a point". By which point I'm usually unable to uphold the insanity for a moment longer, and concede that yes, I am in fact willing to see this differently.

Then I remember that this is who I really am... xx

You see, the thing that I've re-learned this month is this: all power is of the mind. I can make or break my happiness with a thought. And it's all internal! There's nothing outside me that can make me truly happy if I am not willing to choose happiness for myself. Contrarily, nobody and nothing can make me unhappy if my heartfelt intention is to be at peace. Sooner or later, Love always wins. And that, in my life, is a fact.

As these 30 days draw to a close, I am about to embark on another 30 day adventure, this time of a very different kind. I'm doing the Screw Work Let's Play 30 day challenge, in which 200 groovy people, myself included, are bringing an idea of theirs to life. Wow! More on this over the next 30 days, but suffice to say that this is a huge leap into my magnificence, the bringing to life of one of my dreams and a far out soul project all rolled into one. More very shortly on that.

But for now, how was September for you? What is the one main lesson you're taking from it? I'd love to hear.

Au revoir, September. You've been a corker.

The 'B' word

*This is a rather long post. I needed to write it that way. It might take a few minutes longer than normal to read. Just letting you know.*

Some days, life seems to want to dish up a seemingly bigger or more potent lesson than other days. It's day 25 of The Forgiveness Project, and with the end of the project, and the month, in clear sight, I'm hardly surprised to have found myself, and my beautiful beloved, in need of a good ol' clearing.

The subject? The 'B' word, that most terrifying of areas for me to broach with Nige -- babies. Or rather, baby, and the fact that since I became a Godmother three months ago (already?! How does time do that?), I have begun to question my firmly held, thirteen year old notion that 'I don't want children.'

It's not that I suddenly do want kids; it's more that I'm starting to question it, and to find that I don't know the answer as solidly as I have since I was 15 years old, when I realized that my blossoming breasts and widening hips were developing for a biological purpose, and that I couldn't ever imagine myself having children of my own (despite really, really adoring children), and that in fact I didn't think I actually wanted them at all.

In thirteen years, that opinion has barely changed. But recently... recently, I've begun to wonder. And the doubt that has crept silently, and I must say uninvitedly, into my heart, has threatened so much in my world, rocking the mobile of our expectations, understanding and perhaps even the external foundations that we seem to have agreed upon for our life together.

Nige has given his consent for me to write about this: we decided a while ago that we don't want to have children.

People around me, usually older than me, have told me that I am bound to change my mind (and the full extent of their opinions as well, in some cases), and one by one they tried to plant a seed of doubt in my mind.

But it was really only when I was on the maternity ward with my beautiful friend who has blossomed into a beautiful mother, that I really grasped the magnificence, the miraculous nature and the sheer enormity and wonder of motherhood - of birth, of the responsibility and divinity of being a parent, of the incomparable nature of this role. And I cried, as a whole new part of myself began to be revealed to me, like a land that you'd only read about in newspapers or seen on tv with a really bad reception - distant, crackly, left to your imagination to fill in the blanks. Of course, I have known mothers. I have witnessed mothers. I've been friends with them, and I've been around them. But I have never been around babies much, apart from when I worked in cafes, and the first time I held my friend's baby, my heart burst open and I felt something akin to unconditional love for this child -- this child that wasn't even my child.

So here I am on day 25 of a month long commitment to dive deep into whatever forgiveness opportunities presented themselves, and last night I was called to share my doubt with Nige, having tentatively mentioned things since my Goddaughter was born, testing the water, putting the feelers out there to see how he responded.

Let's just say that we both had to do a clearing around it.

I must be clear with you here: becoming parents has not been something that has been in my of Nige's vision of our life together (although of course I've pondered and wondered and imagined, always left with a sense of impossibility around it and feeling that I really didn't think this was what I wanted).

Why not? Isn't it the most natural thing in the world to do? And wouldn't I make a great mother? Even my English language students this summer, in a lesson in which they made predictions about one another, agreed in force and with much laughter that I will one day make an amazing wife and mother. I protested that it's not what I want, and was met with dubious looking faces. By people who don't even know the word 'dubious' in the English language.

So, why not?

Because it's f-ing scary to think about the implication it would have on our lives, on my life and on his. - not to mention this sacred little being who we would be responsible for bringing into the world. This isn't a selfish issue at all - there is an innocent third party whose very existence depends on it! And because all around us, in friends' and family members' lives, we see people whose lives are swallowed up by having kids, and that is quite a terrifying proposition. I mean, I'll be blunt with you - a lot of people who have children seem to come to resent the little b@!*tards; they tell us as much. Because I wouldn't want to bring a being into such a broken, messed up world. And because it upheaves everything I've imagined about my life, and where it's going. Because it would mean sacrificing so much, giving up so much. And am I capable of giving everything that a child needs? Because I'm 28 now, and I'm only just starting to really step into my power - I mean, my 'career' is completely up in the air and I'm an under-earner and even if I did want a child, and if Nige did too, and we both agreed to embark on the irreversible and incredible journey of parenthood, how on earth and in heaven would we finance it?! I can barely meet my bills at the moment. Also, because this world is scary. And because it would be the end of things as we know them. Things between us would change, and that frightens me too. And perhaps most of all because I dread repeating the mistakes of my parents, and I'm faced with the inevitability that that might happen because that's what humans do. I'm frightened of becoming an abuser and ruining my child's life.

There. I've said it.

But at the same time... what if?

Airing this tiny shift in my mind was a big deal. Some people might lock these things, these quiet yearnings, right into their heart. They might tell their friends. They might devote their aching to a journal, or their prayers. But for me, the most honest thing I could do was come right out and talk to my fiance about it. Because it concerns him, and us, as well as me, in a major, major way. Not sharing this with Nige would have been to hide a vital part of myself. Suddenly, there's a wall in the relationship where, in order for intimacy to occur, there needs to be a window.

In telling Nige, I let him know me a little bit more, and perhaps I gave him a gift that he wouldn't have had if I hadn't told him. Maybe it allowed him to explore or experience an aspect of himself that never would have emerged had that conversation not happened. But for sure I know tonight that my partner knows me. He knows where I'm at. He knows my heart. He knows a new and fresh aspect of me, one that I'm just awakening to myself. I love the Love that is always on the other side of me walking through my fear. I took a risk, and after being snarled at by the bulldog, I came to see the beautiful person that was also calling to be witnessed and seen. I was witnessed and seen too, and now I don't need to shroud my heart in darkness. I can let everything breathe. Breath is life-giving, and things like these need to be allowed to live, otherwise I risk carrying a ghost of a thought around with me for the rest of my life, and I risk it becoming stagnant and toxic inside of me.

I don't need people telling me what I will or will not want, although I am grateful for the various influences who have prompted this most unexpected unfolding of ever deeper parts of my heart. This is obviously a huge and deep subject, and I'm sure that if you've read this far, there are thoughts, heart murmurings, musings, experiences, reflections, wishes, hopes and insights that you have, too, which I would love to hear.

But for today, this is enough - that I've aired my doubt, the doubt about how solid I am in my conviction of definitely not wanting children ever. And the forgiveness journey continues on for another day.

Expectations, expectations

Expectations are weird, aren't they? I once asked a friend once about what she was expecting to happen around a particular event, and although I can't remember the circumstances, I distinctly recall her response. She said, "I try not to have expectations." Woah! My expectation of her expectations was completely blown out of the water.

I'm writing this today because I think I've been expecting 'more' of The Forgiveness Project. Not being able to check in each day and write, because I was on holiday and cycling (and Nige would definitely not have forgiven me if I'd packed my really heavy laptop in the panniers which he was carting around), has, I feel, hindered my progress with the project. As if I really was supposed to reach some kind of zenith of enlightenment, rather than being 22 days in and by and large still being the same human being. Pah. Who wants to be normal when you can be healed?

Perhaps I have been deceiving myself a little, too. Being with another human being 24/7 is the fastest way to see their perfectly imperfect yet quite irksome flaws. Having just read Nige's assessment of my 'dodgy gear changes' whilst driving Winston II Once Removed (aka his 1989 Honda Civic) (see day 11), I am provoked into something of a defensive outburst... I do not change gears dodgily! See! The dictionary doesn't even recognize that as a real word! And in fact, mister, if you want to get personal, there is in you, I must point out, a road rager who emerges as soon as you turn the key in the ignition (and sometimes even before!)

"Oh my God," Nige says, reading over my shoulder. "Where's the forgiveness in that?!"

He's right of course. Where is the forgiveness? Because here I am on day 22 slightly annoyed that I haven't written every single day of this project, slightly overwhelmed by the things happening in my life (new freelance jobs, being a Godmother, just about to start the 30 Day Screw Work Let's Play Challenge, etc etc), and slowly realizing that actually, perhaps these past 22 days have been just right. Not too much for me to handle. Just enough forgiveness opportunities to make this project palatable without tearing my inner world apart. Just... right.

Now, about that bloody bus driver this afternoon..... This song is one I used to love love love and listened to non-stop. I feel it's very pertinent for today.

Still forgiving, 20 days in

A week spent away from computers, away from home, amongst hills, paths, fells and villages with a bike and a mighty companion for company have provided me with so many opportunities for forgiveness.

Every day of this project, Nige and I have spoken about, and (hopefully!) practiced forgiveness. The journey is far from over. With ten more days to go, there is much to be said, and a lifetime of forgiving is unfolding before me.

Today, however, I am called to write elsewhere. I have an interview tomorrow for a writing job and am going to visit my beautiful friend and her beautiful daughter after that, so once again it may be a couple of days until I can pour upon the page. There is so much that I long to share with you, so much that matters to me, so much that I have tasted in the last week of my life.

But perhaps, for now, I am simply asked to continue focusing on forgiveness, and trusting that all that needs to be said, shared and heard will be, at just the right moment.

Until then, know this...


"Forget not that the healing of God's Son [children] is all the world is for. That is the only purpose the Holy Spirit sees in it, and thus the only one it has."

May the hush of heaven hold your heart today, and may your day be full of purpose, love, and connection.

xxx

Forgiveness on 9/11

Learning that I can choose love instead of fear has been the most profound lesson of my life.

There is only one thing I could possibly put into a post about 9/11.

Please watch this video.

Much love
Elloa xx

P.S. Nige and I are going away for a cycling holiday today so updates may be limited. Have a forgive-full week!

'We' Can Heal Our Life

We have decided to write a blog. Together. A post about being in a relationship, about life as a couple. Who is this 'we' that 'we' speak of? It's Nige and Ell, of course!


We are setting our intention here this evening (Nige just farted - how very timely), and we hope that you will join us as we expose the good, the bad and the innocent of being in relationship.


Right now, 'we' are deciding how 'we' want to express our own, individual voices on this blog. Notice the word 'we'. What we've noticed in the last couple of weeks, is that the word 'we' has become one of the most frequently used words we use in our vocabulary. We don't think we've used the word 'I' more than once or twice. We have decided to add variety and spice to the relationship - we may start using the word 'us' occasionally.


'We' is such an interesting concept: One Individual + One Individual = WE


Two separate bodies, with two separate personalities, decide to live together and two become one. Suddenly, they no longer have separate interests - they eat the same thing, they retire for bed at the same time every night, and they always order the same thing in a coffee shop, because one is always unsure of what to choose so it's easier to just order what the other person is having even if you don't like it. It's a bit like having sex - lie back and think of England, as they say.


We don't think we're doing too badly with all this 'we' stuff. After all, it is a word that spans many languages, age groups, cultures and even technological breakthroughs... read on if you don't believe 'us':


The French use the word we (pronounced oui). 

The Scottish also use the word we (pronounced wee).


Little boys often wee in their pants.


Young children are taught about the power of we when on a playground slide .. wheeeeeeee!


Even the Nintendo has jumped on the bandwagon, trying to be the first brand with codependant tendencies selling many variations of Wii.

Neil Diamond even wrote a song about the subject called 'We' (and if anyone in the pop world understands the nature of a loving relationship then it's Neil).

We found this great quote about the song on YouTube...

"The lyric of this song is so wonderful, it expresses exactly my deepest wishes of a ideal relationship. Thank you Neil for helping me to realize what i really want of 'my future-life'"

Even Buddha spoke of 'we':

'We are what we think. With our thoughts, we make our world.'

(c. 563-483 BC)

He was probably fused with the all-encompassing Oneness, rather than trapped in a codpendent relationship, but nevertheless he too spoke of 'we'. Buddha is definitely the way forward. (That is why we have a Buddha statue in our bedroom.)

It might seem like we're making light of this issue. Making light of it allows us to shine some light on the situation, enabling it - and us - to breathe, paving the way for a happy relationship.


Having noticed that there's a lot of we-ing going on, we've both decided to make a conscious choice to use the word 'I' and to make individual decisions. It's about respecting each other's differences. The one thing we always have available to us is freedom of choice. Every human being who walks this earth has their own frame of reference and preferences, and exercising this needn't be threatening to their partner or relationship. However, if you start to choose something different from the status quo, the ego may kick off, so don't be surprised if the very foundations of your relationship appear to shake and become unsteady beneath your feet! This is only temporary, as you start to learn a new way of thinking and being in your relationship.


Once you've begun to make loving choices for yourself, it becomes easier to enjoy connecting with your partner.


We're not experts, but we are happy together, and it is the seemingly insignificant daily choices that we've made and continue to make which determine who we are in the middle of our relationship: connecting in the morning, giving and receiving acknowledgements, really listening to what the other has to share (and that means being curious and open!), sharing meals, riding our bikes together, saying thank you and giving loving touch - these are some of the ingredients that combine to create a soft place to land. These choices are things we do together in the relationship but they also help us as individuals to be in relationship with ourselves.


There is an invisible line between us, and it is there for a reason. It's like walking alongside each other; our paths are parallel, but not enmeshed. As a woman, Elloa particularly likes the image of her 'life river' running alongside her partner's 'life path' - it reminds her to allow the relationship to flow and unfold in its own unique way. In Nige's words, don't cross the line.


The truth is that for a relationship to become conscious and fully alive, it takes practice and the willingness to choose again... and again... and again. Being in a relationship is a learning process and we're finding that it's best to remember to laugh at the absurdity of it all as we navigate the twists and turns.


Perhaps Neil was wrong.


Perhaps One Individual + One Individual = LOVE

I'm in the middle of The Forgiveness Project - a 30 Day Exploration of Forgiveness. Come and join me here.

The Forgiveness Project

Nige and I have been pondering... What would happen if you spent 30 days focussing on forgiving everyone who angers or upsets you in any way - and we mean everyone? Whether it's mild irritation, medium road rage or a fully blown fit of hysteria, forgiveness, we've found, is always the antidote that can help us move from fear to love.

What is forgiveness, anyway? Well for starters, it's a letting go of control and a need to be right (ouch!), genuinely putting myself into another person's shoes and truly recognizing that everything that another person seemingly does to me is either an extension of love, or a cry for it (yes, that does include the ignorant van driver who drives within a hair's breadth of me on my bike - yes, even that is a cry for love). Through practicing radical forgiveness, the heart bursts open to a new way of thinking and living, in which innocence becomes the order of the day.

So, for the next 30 days, this is exactly what Nige and I are going to do. Inspired by the amazing 41 day projects Julia has done this year, and reflecting on Nige's 104 day experiment in conscious dying, aware of how quickly a month seems to pass by, and so excited about starting the Screw Work Let's Play 30 Day Challenge on 1st October, now - this day, this moment - seems like the perfect time to begin a forgiveness project.

Love waits on welcome. To the degree that we are judging our fellow human beings is to the degree that we are refusing to let love into our lives. Not content with just coasting along, doing the work of forgiving when it's so intense that we can't carry on our day without doing it, we are, for the next 30 days, committing to forgive all of it.

If we truly take this to heart - and we mean, truly take it to heart, really, really forgiving everyone - and apply it in our everyday lives, then we will be doing our bit for world peace. We're talking about everything here, from the idiot on the road to world leaders, to the friends we secretly judge, to our families, our annoying neighbours, and especially, each other. We will leave no stone unturned. After all, what's the worst that could happen here? We might actually end up liking the arsehole. Woah!

On a serious note, this is about accountability. It's a revolution in how we speak, how we think, how we act, and it starts in the mind. It's about refusing to point the finger, and, when we do, forgiving ourselves anyway and letting it all go.

We would love for you to join us on this epic adventure. Get involved by leaving comments, blogging about it yourself and sending us a link, or going within and doing the work quietly - whatever suits you.

Let the forgiveness revolution begin...

... hand in hand.

Moments

Moments

by Luis Jorge Borges

If I were able to live my life again,

next time I would try to make more mistakes.

I would not try to be so perfect. I would be more relaxed.

I would be much more foolish than I have been. In fact,

I would take very few things seriously.

I would be much less sanitary.

I would run more risks. I would take more trips,

I would contemplate more sunsets,

I would climb more mountains,

I would swim more rivers.

I would go to more places I have never visited.

I would eat more ice cream and fewer beans.

I would have more real problems, fewer imaginary ones.

I was one of these people who lived prudently

and prolifically every moment of his life.

Certainly I had moments of great happiness:

Don’t let the present slip away.

I was one of those who never went anywhere

without a thermometer, a hot water bottle,

an umbrella, and a parachute.

If I could live over again,

I would go barefoot, beginning

in early spring

and would continue so until the end of autumn.

I would take more turns on the merry-go-round.

I would watch more dawns

And play with more children,

if I once again had a life ahead of me.

But, you see, I am eighty-five

and I know that I am dying.

Me having a moment. Photography by Nige.

Bike

Today I fell off my bike.

It's a noteworthy occasion because it hasn't happened before, except for when I rode straight onto the extremely pebbly beach in Worthing a couple of months ago. My bike came to a halt and fell to the ground, a straight 90 degree topple which landed me firmly on the stones. The same thing happened today, except that I was on a cycle path that became extremely precarious and sloped as it reached the road. I was in a big gear, and I saw what was happening before it happened. Luckily I landed on a soft grassy verge, and the only injury was to my ego. In fact, I confess that it was quite fun! I felt like a proper cyclist, almost as if falling off was the completion of some silent initiation ceremony. You've got to fall off, get back on, adjust your saddle, go for a wee in a field where passing cars can see your white bum crouching because you're utterly desperate and can't hold on any longer - then, you can call yourself a cyclist.

NB: I also had a wee in a field today, and I think three or four drivers saw my white ass, caught me pulling my cycling shorts up. And it felt damn good. (I nearly stung my bum on nettles though, which I can guarantee would not have felt good. I happily averted any kind of bum stinging this afternoon - hooray!)

I went out for a ride because today was one of those stunning spring days that insist you go outdoors. It's kind of the law in England, where "nice" and "day" are used so infrequently in the same sentence, weather wise at least. I rode to Rushfields Garden Centre, where Nige works, and had lunch with him by the pond. It's about a 9 mile ride up there, with a few minor hills. Great for getting the legs pumping and the lungs working properly. There were hundreds of tadpoles swimming around in the pond, and I sat cross legged and watched them, awed by their wriggly tails and tinyness. As I sat, I pondered two very important questions:

Do tadpoles have brains? Are they conscious beings?
Answers on a postcard to Elloa Tadpole Wonderer, the Pond, Rushfields Garden Centre.

I felt like I was witnessing a miracle when I saw a whole group of the tadpoles get behind a grey flowerpot that was floating at the top of the pond and start to push it across the pond. I was transfixed! It seemed utterly incredible to me that there was some kind of group intelligence operating whereby these tiny little polliwogs had agreed to transport a foreign object that was hundreds of times their individual size across the water. Amazing. Why on earth were they doing that?! Please enlighten me if you know.

I have to tell you that I adore being out on my bike. I completely and utterly love it. It's become a huge part of my life since September, and it's something I love doing alone and also with Nige. I've become much stronger and fitter, and the way I feel when I'm out - and, come to think of it, for hours afterwards - is simply incomparable to any city-based activity I can think of. The sense of satisfaction is tangible, as is the voracious appetite that follows a good jaunt on the bike. A spinning class might be great for pain tolerance and endurance, but I'd rather be out amongst the South Downs any day.

On my bike, I see the same views, the same places, the same roads that I see when I'm driving my car, but my experience of those things is entirely different when I'm on two wheels instead of being carefully enclosed in my Clio. I didn't know when I bought my bike that I was soon to be entering a new community, consisting of people wearing tight fitting shorts and tops and fingerless gloves, a community whose members mostly acknowledge other members out on the road with a nod, a wave and a hello. Have you ever seen a cyclist say hello to a car driver? As a cyclist, I don't think I've ever said hello to a car driver, and vice versa. But on the bike, it's hello here, hello there, hello across busy A roads, hello as you're overtaking or being overtaken, hello on trains and in B&Bs, hello in cafes on those all important cake stops. Today, I think I said hello about 25 times. About one for every mile I rode. There is, also, a cultural divide between road cyclists and mountain bikers, but in all honesty I've not experienced much hostility from road cyclists at all, and in fact they were friendlier than the mountain bikers today!

I've realised over the last seven months that I'm really quite content with a simple kind of life. I'm not really interested in going to clubs and bars anymore, and although I have a weakness for shopping, given the choice, I'd pick riding over being in the local shopping centre any day. It's a free day out, no two rides are ever the same, and it's so much fun!

Items seen by the side of the road today include:
- a toy mouse
- a wig (I kid you not)
- litter

Items seen recently by the side of the road include:
- three dead badgers (sad)
- swans in fields next to the military canal in Kent
- an elloa lying on grass insisting that she cannot go on.






Sometimes - and only ever in the presence of another human being, who, by default, is always Nige - I have bike tantrums. These are moments when I feel weak, or can't get my right foot into the pedal (it's always the right one - absolutely the stupid pedal's fault, not mine) or am generally annoyed at the fact that I am basically still a novice and therefore need some guidance or suggestions. I will flip out or pedal harder to get away from Nige, or stop and insist that I'm not going any further. Ouch. Sometimes, I am ashamed to admit, I behave very similarly to a small child who hasn't been given their way.

This admission, and indeed the behaviour itself, provides ample opportunity for me to fulfill my function and do the work that I am here to do: to forgive, to let go, to remember to laugh, to say fuck it and to change my mind. On our cycling trip in Kent last weekend, Nige and I had a few hairy moments. Stuff got triggered for one or both of us, and suddenly there was tension. We had to work through a whole set of beliefs in the car on the way to the B&B on Saturday morning! After doing the work we needed to do, Nige spoke about the true purpose of the relationship being revealed. Core stuff is coming up on a fairly regular basis at the moment, and it requires that I be attentive, respectful and surrendered, unless I want my old, fear-based patterns to carry on repeating themselves.

It was on Sunday though that a proper crisis popped up. Stuff happened over breakfast at the B&B, the details of which I don't need to go into. A few hours later, we were riding our bikes, and there it was - the Tension. Palpable, undeniable tension. I invited Nige to speak, and when he did, all my shit was triggered and I was not able to detach and simply hear him as a human being. Suddenly, his words were cutting into my very being. We actually crossed a new line for us, which was to enter into full blown bickering. Usually, one of us is in "adult" mode, or at least in it enough to know not to engage. But not this time.

It was lunacy! There we were, cycling through the "Garden of England", and I couldn't see a thing around me because I was consumed by my need to be right, and by my needs in general. Nige voiced his anger in a way he hasn't ever done before - it wasn't contained, it wasn't in the safe structure of a clearing, and I uttered ominously, "I don't like what's happening in this relationship." A statement, not a question. No curiosity. Just cold hard facts. This is the beginning of the end, now. Things are changing. He's changed. I've changed. Darkness has entered our relationship. I was a fool to think otherwise, an utter fool to delude myself into hoping that this was a 'holy' relationship. It was, I was convinced, a holey relationship - full of holes.

A mile or so later down the road, Nige stopped to ask directions. I don't know what happened, or how, but the Holy Spirit must have seen an opening. Nige checked that we were on the right road (which, of course, we were, only a mile away from the town of Lydd which we were aiming for en route to the very desolate and rather eeire Dungeness), and his bike was about two metres ahead of mine. Suddenly I said, "I really want to take a step towards you right now". Boom! An instant, a confession, a vulnerability, and the next thing I knew, we were crying in each other's arms, sharing our worlds and our wounds, correcting our mistaken beliefs.

I listened as Nige told me that when he was young, it wasn't safe for him to allow any gaps in the conversation, because in those gaps, he'd be pounced on and attacked. I shared with him that it is really hard for me to speak up, because I grew up believing that I was a burden to my mum and my family - and yet I have this compelling need to be seen. The one thing I think I need is the hardest thing for me to ask for, or take. Our dynamics click together like puzzle pieces born to slot into one another. No wonder there were fireworks.

We somehow managed to shift the paradigm we were working in, and within minutes were in the closing stages of a beautiful, authentic and healing process of connection and correction. There we both were, standing on a country lane on a hot Sunday, straddling our bikes and not the least bit aware of any passing cars or cyclists. I remembered my innocence; Nige remembered his. Innocence. Peace. Acceptance. Freedom. This is what we'd both been asking for over the breakfast table. It took a few hours, but we got there in the end.

Mighty Companions

We cycled off together, friends again - mighty companions! - and I saw the world anew with fresh eyes. I was and still am so grateful for the chance to forgive and be forgiven, for the opportunity to look into another person's life and see my own innocence reflected back to me. The love I feel for Nigel Atkinson is incomparable to anything I've ever known before. In him, I have the most beautiful man, the strongest one, the sacred one in whose arms I am repaired. I offer these same gifts to him, and we ride along and heal together and live again and remember to laugh.

Just a few minutes later, I declared, "I really like what's happening in our relationship." I think it's very important to take the ego's self-righteous convictions and turn them into statements of grace. Where I had been so convinced ten minutes before that things were going downhill for us and that 'this was the beginning of the end', now I simply knew in my heart that all was well, all was safe and that nothing real could be threatened. Love is. Everything else, I made up. The truth is not vulnerable to my ego's pitiful attacks on it, and whatever my ego decides to throw at it cannot change the fact that God loves me. In the back of my mind, I hear it whisper to me sometimes, things that are sinister and world-based: "One day, he'll die and you'll be left all alone", or, "He'll go off you soon enough Elloa. Everyone gets sick of you eventually." The thing is.... even if something like this did happen in my life, it wouldn't mean what my ego says it'd mean. I'd still be loveable, acceptable, enough. I'd still be love.

I like to ride my bicycle. This is what I wanted to share with you today, because I've done four bike rides in the last 8 days and have had an excellent time. What seems to transpire though, every time I sit down to write, is how every situation in my life is an opportunity to live and teach one of two things: love, or fear.

Today, I choose love.

What do you choose?