This is All Too Much!

An interesting thing is happening to me at the moment: having felt physically exhausted for a good long while, and although my physical energy is low, my brain is packed full of things I want to say. This is classic bi-polar, of course, and the medical literature refers to this as the 'racing mind'. Or is it?

My mind is not actually racing anywhere - if anything, it is wonderfully calm. It does however feel packed to the roof, so much so that I can't think the wood for the trees. As a result, I find it difficult to write. I feel heavily mentally pregnant, not agitated. Just as interestingly, my brain has also been feeling 'funny' these past few days, the sort of 'funny feeling' I used to get after an ECT treatment. Nothing painful - just ...... words fail me to describe it. The closest I come to it is by saying that my brain feels 'strangely alive', as if it had acquired a heart beat and a breathing mechanism. There's movement up there, and because there's movement up there I feel as if everything else is moving - a little disoriented rather than outright dizzy.

This is hugely funny to me because enough has happened in my life over the last month to set me spinning, so why wouldn't I spin?!

Firstly, I have been blessed with the arrival in our family of a beautiful grand-daughter named Lilly. I know I would say this of course, but Lilly is GORGEOUS. This little human being is already a very big presence and I have a deep sense that Lilly is going to be a force to reckon with. I cannot resist posting a photo of our son Greg with little Lilly - here it is:

Lilly's birth was such long painful hard work for her mum Rebecca that I still feel huge relief when I look at photographs that show everyone in sterling health. Greg's expression above just about says it all, for all of us. As you can imagine, I cannot wait for Greg, Rebecca and Lilly to come up and stay with us next week.

As I am still 'Lilly spinning' and will no doubt continue to do so for a while, I am also resonating with what happened while I was in France. It was such a profound pleasure for me to be able to help my parents in their hour of need, especially because they were there for me in my needy 'hour'. I felt good about returning their love and support, even more so because it had never come to me with a return ticket attached. Their move was a safe testing ground for me as I was able to test my limits whilst having a safety net in place. If I went a little too far and needed to sleep for two days to recharge, my mum was there to do all the sustenance work such as shopping for food, cooking, etc. This was invaluable.  It gave me the opportunity to test my limits at 'low cost' to myself (and to my husband).  It also enabled me to test my limitations and discover that some of my 'old' capabilities were coming back. I managed my parent's move as I used to manage projects and found that my organisational and planning skills had made their reappearance. It was a source of great joy: I felt as if I had found a lost bit of me. I would never have had the chance to reconnect with those skills were it not for my parents. I would never have dared commit to a 'real' project for fear of crumbling. In my parents' new flat, I knew I could crumble to my heart's content!

The next significant step was my writing Ten Coaching Tips from a Tattered Twit. I needed to face some of my demons and overcome my fears. The first question that came to me was: would anyone be remotely interested in the ramblings of a mental case? The next one was: does it matter? Not exactly open questions but good for me never the less! In the end, I chose to write truthfully and openly for me whilst remembering that others were adult enough to make up their own mind as to whether what I had written carried any relevance or resonance for them. After all, who the hell was I to second guess others?!?

To make the spinning complete, I took a very big step for myself, even if it was a very small step for mankind: I attended the local Coaching Exchange for the first time in nearly three years. I was terrified. If it weren't for the fact that lovely Nicola (who started it all) had so kindly offered to pick me up and drive me there, I would have chickened out. To say that I was welcome with open arms would not be an adequate description of what I experienced. I felt I was welcome with open hearts. As I felt my anxiety throughout the day before the Exchange, throughout the day of the Exchange culminating in a near panic attack as I entered the premises, something became very clear to me: I was no longer afraid of being afraid. I felt the fear and did it anyway but with the emphasis on 'felt the fear' rather than on 'did it anyway'. The fact that I 'did it' does matter but the way I 'did it' matters much more. I didn't have to pull myself together using my socks or my boot straps, get my backside in gear, give myself a stern talking to: I just loved my fear. I don't mean that living in fear is a good thing, not at all. I mean that fear cannot remain in the presence of love. Love gently dissolves fear. It doesn't have to use force. It wouldn't be love if it did that.

I have a lot of fear to release, a lot of fear to dissolve. For the first time, I truly FEEL OK about that. In fact, I am so OK with it that I am even 'allowing' my body to release fear too. I won't go into too much detail but , if I remind you that fear lives in the gut, then I am sure you'll understand what I mean when I tell you that I am running regularly....  :0)

Post new comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.