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.