Forget The Cabaret - Life Is A Pendulum Old Chums

Today has been one of those weird ones - you know the times where you actually know what's about to happen (what needsto happen) yet when it does it still takes you by surprise, and you find yourself dealing with waves of emotions to be digested, reflected upon and made sense of? I guess it could be likened to a school exam, where you know in your heart of hearts that you've done really badly and yet are still shocked to receive the official confirmation in the form of a bad result?

The funny thing for me is that before today day had even started, I was already in the place of knowing and choosing this particular outcome - so the news was no surprise. No, the news was just the natural tidy up of lose ends, burnt and beaded threads that had been flapping in the wind, slapping frantically against my bare skin, urging me to wake from a dream that had turned in to a nightmare.

Like I said - a weird one. The signs are always here. There's always something going on. Always a truth that rumbles gently - or finally crashes around using every available method - until it's noticed, and actioned. Co-incidence and serendipity - being in the flow - allowing and enjoying - when those are the kind sensations and experiences that fill my time, then I know I'm acting from my own inner wisdom. When there are struggles and difficulties, that's when I know there's a lesson to be learned - but it can sometimes take a while for me to heed the lesson, however good the outcome will be! Change, you see - even the good stuff can be daunting!

On Saturday I enjoyed a particularly helpful Skype conversation with a friend of mine (thanks, Grasshopper, you know who you are!) - one of those so called happy co-incidences, because we hadn't spoken for ages and yet he'd popped in to my head just half an hour or so before I received his call. Concerned that I appeared somewhat troubled, he offered to take me through a new coaching process he'd been learning. Of course I agreed - I love this stuff, and was also keen to quieten the inner battles that had been tiring me. So, with his help, and with him acting as my guide and my witness, we walked through some of my core beliefs. To my surprise, it turned out that I still had the last vestiges of an old and deeply engrained parasitic belief that for years had been burrowed tick-like in to my being. The old and worn-out song that I'm not good enough. Small - tiny, in fact - but there none the less. So through our honest conversation, and following this new process, he helped me to at last release myself from the remaining defiant pincers that had, until that point, still kept a part of themselves embedded in to my flesh. Gotcha you sneaky, slippery little sucker! Phew. That feels better!

And, out of the blue, another co-incidental bit of help came my way this afternoon when I dropped in to see another friend on my way back from town. I'd expected to share a coffee and the usual welcoming, questioning female chats I enjoy so much with his wife - but she was out. So instead he and I sat in the sunshine discussing life, the universe and all that is - or was, or could be, or might still be. It was a delicious and most unforeseen pleasure I was least expecting - perhaps we drank too much of that really strong coffee - or perhaps it really was serendipity. I don't know for sure. But the resulting free-flow of conversation was both surprising and enlightening - and a most unexpected gift.

He spoke to me, quite candidly, about the 'inferno' that he (and others) recognise burns within me - insistent, voracious, and on occasions somewhat threatening to others. He spoke about my constant drive to search, adventure, test, push, overcome and bloody well 'do' more than is necessary. He pointed out that (my nature being as it is) I am likely to always continue along that path in one way or another. I spoke about the concept that we all seek 'witnesses' in our life - people who can share our experiences, people who validate our opinions through agreement or variation. We both explored the idea that without feedback and conversation (listening, speaking, sharing, comparing) we confine ourselves to a grey, one-dimentional palette that limits our experiences. He also threw me some facts and posed me some questions, likening the human journey to the swinging of a pendulum.

Enjoying the coffee and sunshine, together we discussed the notion that, like a pendulum, when we surge in positivity (or negativity) the natural course of nature's law is that we'll experience the same in the alternate spectrum - the equal and opposite natural swing and balance of life. Indeed, a notion that for years I've shared with those who care to listen - and also with those who (in my younger years when all this inner-game stuff was a new obsession) I would corner and pester until either they understood the point I was making or would simply walk away. Yup, I guess you could say I've always been a little intense!

My friend gave me some wise and honest advice, based on his observations of me over the eight years that I've lived here in France and had the honour to call him my friend. Not usually one for speaking out, it came as a welcome surprise to hear his well thought out opinion. He suggested that my challenge is to find the normality within the wild swinging of the pendulum that has, until now, been the blueprint of my existence. To seek the normality as the pendulum speeds over it again and again. To notice exactly what normality is, and to enjoy it. The wry and knowing smile spoke volumes"those who find it say it's much closer than most people think... isn't that the stuff you study and teach Mel?"

His advice beautifully mirrors that of a conscious and very personal intention I made public a short while ago - my decision, my choice, my declaration to now live my life for me - for Mel Carnegie, age 46 and a quarter. To find out, from a place of safety, who I really am. To put myself first and to heed my inner self. To let my intuition grow, thrive, and guide me. Because, no longer willing to play "the fighter" or "the survivor"... I've realised that I've finally "done it". I've made it through. I AM enough (I always was - doh! - don't you hate it when that happens?) and now my  conscious focus is to enjoy my life. To appreciate the here and now. To wake up and smell the coffee, or slow down and admire the roses - whatever phrase we choose... whatever pace we enjoy.

My friend, today, was advising me just to be me - to enjoy the 'normality' that is actually what life is about. I shared with him my understanding of who I think I really am, how I really choose to enjoy my live - which is to live a simple life, to love and to be loved. My friend smiled.

And guess what, as I'm typing these words, the track that's just started playing in the background right now (as if by coincidence?) is one of my all time favourite tracks that alway signals forward movement for me - Eddie Reader's "I'm In The Right Place Now"... as I said at the beginning, funny ain't it?

I have a feeling that I'll always be an adventurer. I'll always seek more from life. I'll question, I'll analyse, I'll push, I'll prod, I'll poke... I'll piss people off - and help others to find their pathway... and you know what? I'll always keep finding more to excite and engage me. I already have the best memory albums of life's travels - and there's plenty more space to fill. Bring it on - gently and steadily from now on please.

The news I started this post with, is that the Journeyman I spoke of in a previous post has gone his own way. It's certainly true that he has taught me much - mainly that I'm worth so much more than I was once willing to settle for. So, to you, Journeyman, I thank you. Class complete. See you in another lifetime my friend - our work here together this time around is done.

Broken...?

Yup... because broken, bust, wiped out, knackered are all certainly all words I'd use to describe the way I'm feeling right now. Others may well choose to use other adjectives - prickly, unreasonable, bad-tempered and generally difficult would be some of my guesses based on reactions and expressions I've witnessed in response to my behaviour over the past few days!

The first three months of this year have already proven to be one heck of a ride - in so very many ways. At the time, though, I knew exactly what I was signing up for - and it certainly has over-delivered on the results I was expecting. More than just a means to an end, I've achieved more than I thought could be expected in such a short space of time - and I've done it by asking more of myself than I would have asked even of the strongest mental or physical athlete. And yes, my friends, I've done it. Yes, I knew I'd hit some kind of meltdown once I had the chance to stop and let go, that was inevitable, part of nature's way... but this? This level of fatigue, exhaustion, aching and what can only be described as mental and physical wipeout? No, I must admit that I certainly was not expecting quite such a spectacular collapse. Even by my own measurements, this is really quite a big one!

And I KNOW it's a good thing - because I've been here before. Although this time I'm not in the middle of a struggle, nor am I 'fighting' for or against anything or anybody. There are no battles to be won, there are no more legal or emotional mazes to be worked through. Nobody and nothing is threatening me. I am under no pressure. Everything is, in fact, under control and running its own natural course. Yes, ok, there are still some tweaks needed along the way - but in the grand scheme of things the war has been won. It's just a matter of bringing home the last remaining troops.

And yet... and yet... I am totally and utterly depleted. I am inexplicably teary, and unable to focus on anything for more than a few minutes before my head starts pounding and I lose concentration. Nothing left. All gone. Finished.  Over and out. And at the very same time I know that all of this simply heralds more positive growth for me. It's another invitation to let go of the old - to break through to more than I've been before by allowing my self to be broken. Because broken I am.

Just yesterday, for example, I received some news that I wasn't expecting. No great shakes, just another wall of bureaucracy that I'll need to jump over before this divorce can be finalised. It's a paperwork trail that requires me to hire yet another professional to complete this specific process because, as I was told by a sympathetic but powerless representative of the company "that's just the way we do it here". Do-able and, in a way understandable, it still sent me in to a tailspin and I simply couldn't muster the energy to get up, get going and get on with it. So instead I moved in to the kitchen and made myself a cup of mint tea.

And here is where I'm realising that 'broken' may well actually mean 'breakthrough'. Because just a few months ago, I would not have let any such reaction stop me or even break my stride. I'd have pushed on through regardless, drawing on my seemingly endless reserves of energy, digging deeper and pulling on whatever resources I could find (personal or external) to get me through. Now, however, because I'm feeling so very broken (for want of a better word) I am instead allowing myself to feel the blow and instead do something to sooth myself. I have quietly walked away from the situation, knowing that it will all work out. Knowing also that I'm much better off looking after myself in the moment rather than pushing harder still to solve something that, quite frankly, can wait just a little while longer. A few hours or days - even weeks - are going to make no difference whatsoever when all is said and done.

Speaking with my very wise friend Anna last night, she instructed me to take my own medicine and spend the next 48 hours only doing things that I know are good for me. Reminding me to listen to myself, to tune in, and to be who I really choose to be. I nodded sagely, smiling all the while she was telling me this, as her words were pretty much exactly the same instructions I had given to a dear friend only a couple of days earlier. She, like me, is in the middle of a change point. A period in her life when, for the first time ever, she has the opportunity to indulge herself, to discover who she is and what brings her happiness. And she's been surprised to discover that she actually doesn't know the answer... yet.

Me? Do I know the answers? Well, to be honest, sometimes I think I do... most of the time, though, I'm very happy to say that I don't - because that way, in my map of the world at least, it means I'm open to learning and growing. Having said that, I am perfectly aware that I can be particularly stubborn when it comes to getting my point across. I also know that I will resolutely stick on a mission if I believe I can help or add value... sometimes when, in hindsight, it may have been wiser to let go more quickly. But hey, with hindsight we're all experts eh?

I do believe though, right from the core of my being, that what may well feel to me is 'a broken Mel' is in actual fact just another set of walls and barriers crumbling down. In my last post I said I'd finished with being the survivor, the victor in any challenge. I said that now I choose to live my life in peace and joy. Well, I've learned along the way that the power of intention is not something to be messed with. I've realised that when I speak of a desire or choice something from a soul-level, it invariably happens - and inevitably brings along with it the bulldozers and demolition crews necessary to batter through my stubborn resistance to making whatever adjustments are necessary.

So now, this time, I'm going along with the ride and enjoying the scenery. This time I have the opportunity to watch what's happening along the way. I can take in the sights, enjoy the atmosphere and yes, smell the coffee as my wishes come true. As the walls crumble down, so a new door is revealed. A door that had been hidden before. A door to another place - to more of my soul - to an even deeper authentic sense of who I really am.

So yes, I am broken. But I think rather that this is finally the end of an automatic survival and fighting habit that I've fine tuned over the years. Don't get me wrong, that habit has served me very well - exceptionally well in actual fact. And those warrior skills are ones I know I can call on at any time. Now, though, the battle is done. I'm giving up the fight, and I'm learning to live with me - just as I am.

OK, then who am I exactly? Well... I am that little girl, no more than four years old, who loves to fly her kite on the beach. The little girl who roars with laughter as the wind whips at her clothes and hair, while the sea applauds with its rhythmic smacking, chuntering and pulling of the pebbles as wave after wave hits the shore. I'm singing in to the wind, imagining wild stories of mythical creatures and magical people, dancing and twirling over the pebbles, swept along by the thrill of it all and the joy of the moment. I know how to ask for more of the things I like, and for less of the things I don't like. Because I'm safe to do that, and I know my requests are heard - and heeded. There may be times I stamp my foot in frustration or fury - but I'm easily soothed and always willing to learn a better way to understand as well as to be understood.

That was me. And now this IS me. All that is left is to continue accepting more and more of who I am - because you know what? I may be frustrating. I may be demanding. I may at times be too loud, and at others too quiet. No, I'm far from being perfect - but fundamentally, underneath it all, I reckon I'm a pretty good egg! And, as everyone knows, you can't make an omelette without breaking an egg :-))

Take A Deep Breath... And... Relax...

Phew... what an absolutely amazing few weeks! Exhilarating, invigorating, frustrating, testing, uplifting, frightening, emotionally challenging.... wow, it sure feels like I've just come off one of the most amazing roller-coaster rides in the world. Now then, normally I detest roller-coasters (just ask Sarah, who saw me stride on and then slink straight back off the Pepsi Max ride at Blackpool before it had even started!) but this one... well... I've come off fizzing and buzzing, my hair a little like the professor on Back To The Future, and with a contented smile bigger than the Cheshire Cat after a toke on the hubbly bubbly pipe. And a triumphant air-punching whoop inside me that keeps repeating "I've done it! I've done it! I've flippin well DONE IT!"

It is, once again, a Sunday afternoon. I'm at home in my kitchen, dressing-gowned and happy. The recently enjoyed poached eggs feeding my body, I'm now feeding my soul in one of my favourite ways - writing. I'm finally home, you see, after more than ten weeks of constant work and travel. Now it's my time to relax and to chill out. So, yes, at nearly 3pm new time (well, the clocks have just gone forward, so it's really not even 2pm yet after all) I'm perched at my regular spot in the kitchen, accompanied by three curious cats and the dulcet tones of Seal playing in the background. The particular track at the moment is Adamski's "Crazy" and I can't help but smile at the lyrics: "no we're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy"

Crazy, for sure, is how I've been for a while. If anyone else had told me they were heading out to achieve the goal I set for myself at the beginning of this year, in the time-frame I determined it would take, I would certainly have questioned their judgement. Perhaps even their sanity! And yes, I'm quite sure that while I've been travelling along this recent journey, then yes... I have indeed had times of being a little crazy. Then again, I'm pretty sure now that we all go a little crazy during times of challenge and development. As you probably know, I prefer to find more growth-related expressions to use in the place of the over-used word "change" because, in my experience, it causes the majority of people to recoil at varying levels. And, whether pushed or jumping, any kind of growth feels very odd - well, it would, wouldn't it? Otherwise it wouldn't be anything other than that which we already know. So, yes, I believe that we all experience craziness to some degree through times of personal expansion - in my case, usually inspired through the need to simply survive.

And survive I most certainly have. Absolutely. No question. Job done. And now, I think I'm heading for another little bit of craziness... because now I'm purposely heading in to a completely new existence.

It struck me a couple of weeks ago that, whilst I'm great at fighting and can turn any situation around to my advantage in the end, one of my key drivers has been to survive. Right from childhood. Almost as if I'm pre-programmed to survive anything that comes my way. And, I've now decided, these past few weeks have been my very last test of survival. I've worked harder than I would ever expect anyone else to do. I've pushed friendships to the edge in order to achieve my goal. And now, now, I've fulfilled my debts, secured my reputation, am in the last stages of finalising the mess that has been my divorce, and have also bought myself a healthy chunk of time in which to do nothing but relax and reflect.

Because I've had enough now. I'm not doing it any more. For goodness sakes, if I haven't yet proved to myself that I AM good enough, that I CAN come back stronger no matter how big the challenge... well, then I'm a harder task-master than I had previously imagined! And you know what? Enough is enough - yes, even for me. I no longer need to survive or to fight. I can finally say that I have indeed won the war.

So, no - no more battles for me. No further need to prove myself by surviving yet another life or sanity threatening challenge. Nope, from now on I am heading out to focus on increasing peace and joy in my life. For the first time in my life, to consciously choose how my life is going to be. Not from a position of feeling under threat, rather instead from a position of relaxation. From the indisputable evidence that I have indeed survived - not just the past couple of years, but also the challenges that see to have become my way of life - now it's time to relax, chill out and find out what I'd really like to do. The financial pressures have vanished. The emotional turmoils have been smoothed and are now flourishing in actual fact. So yes, now I really, truly, honestly amliving the dream. Right here, right now, sitting in my lovely home... job done, self-sufficient and glowing with pride.

The thing is... do I actually know how to relax? No, I don't mean just taking a short break before getting straight back on the treadmill... I mean really really relax. To spend time exactly as I choose - with whoever I choose and doing whatever takes my fancy. Well, I'm not sure... I'm certainly willing to learn and yesterday afternoon was a good start. Just home from the UK, my lovely friend Vera came round and together we enjoyed a typical French lunch outside in the warm sunshine - salad, a selection of good cheeses, baguette and of course a glass of wine. We chatted and laughed, and then after that we watched the classic film Thelma and Louise. Vera has herself recently survived some major personal challenges, through which our friendship has flourished and become even stronger than ever before. So, yesterday afternoon, we empathised with the two on-screen friends who started off in innocence planning a couple of days away together, and who ended up finding themselves as they faced an array of unexpected situations that challenge them both to go a little bit crazy. By the end of it we had tears streaming down our faces - neither one of us certain whether we were laughing or crying!

1. Now, I'm neither a Thelma nor a Louise - but I certainly feel that a new kind of craziness is about to hit. One where I can actually choose to discover exactly what makes me tick. Where I can choose to do the things that bring me joy. Where I can be the person filled with love, peace and safety - I know that's who I really am, because through my fights for survival, I've been lucky enough to glimpse at my soul.

One of my favourite quotes is Ghandi's invitation to us all to "be the change you want to see in the world". So now, even though my engrained habit of more than 40 years has been to get up and get going, I am sitting in stillness. Listening to my soul. Learning to relax and be the joy I'd like to see in my world.

Crazy? Well, I don't know... but it sure feels different... and I LOVE it!

Pyjamas And High Heeled Shoes!

Daffodils are out. Crocuses are blooming. And on my table outside the kitchen, my white Carnegie Hyacinth is proudly sprouting flowers. Spring, my friends, is finally coming. And I welcome it with open arms.

Don't get me wrong, winter this year has been an extremely colourful season for me. Lots has been happening and I have finally become comfortable with this feeling of being... well... comfortable! More relaxed in my own skin than I can ever remember, and confident that I can now overcome any obstacle, means that now... now... I am now consciously focusing on accepting more joy and love in to my life.

You see, since my earliest memories, I have learned the art of survival. Not the kind of daily fight for life that face much of the world's population, forced to eek out an existence in abject poverty and cruelty. No, of course I'm not talking about that sort of monumental survival challenge. My battles have been more on the 'inner world' - the emotional, psychological blows that you could say are harder to spot. Bearing no physical scars or disfigurements, and (to the outside world at least) living a life where it seemed I was looked after, there were no questions asked about my well-being.

Much of my life since childhood has been about proving myself - seeking acceptance and constant reassurances that, actually, I am ok. Fighting against injustice, championing the underdog and determining to find another way in the face of adversity, I've found solace in the world of self-development, motivation and coaching. Because each time I am able to help someone work through their issues, I am also helping myself. Yes, you might say my chosen profession is somewhat self-serving. To which I would respond loud and clear - "absolutely. Spot on." Because that's exactly what it is.

It hasn't always been that way. You may remember in a previous post from 2009 I talked about my sudden realisation that all the time I had believed I was coaching people for them, it suddenly dawned on me that I was coaching them for me? That through helping others, I was actually helping to heal myself in the process? You may also remember that, at that time, I decided that my coaching days were therefore over and done. My thought behind it being that surely, if I'm coaching for me rather than my client, then I can no longer call myself a coach? Because to me, my work had been about giving my all - heart and soul - to helping anyone who requested my services. And the realisation that underneath it all, my driving force had likely been the need to heal myselfwas a bit of a shock to say the least!

Thankfully I've moved on since then. Thankfully I now have a much greater understanding of the saying "if the man is right, the world is right" - and so now I look back at my early coaching days with a misty eyed fondness for the person who threw herself headlong in to her profession, determined to make the world a better place. Because, in the process, and since I started writing this blog, I have indeed succeeded in making the world a better place. My world. The inner landscape that my soul inhabits. The place that, until relatively recently, was cold, brittle and grey - too scared to bend, too bruised to hug, too hoarse to shout.

I hadn't realised that, as well as the castle walls I had built to protect myself, I also had hundreds of bloodthirsty sharks circling in my moat. I had thought, as you know, that the castle was there to protect me - and in my early years it certainly served its' purpose. But as the years rolled by, I became a prisoner in my own fortress. But the strange thing is, I hadn't even noticed.

It's only been over the past few months that friends have told me how difficult it can be to 'help' me. How darned self-sufficient I am, and how obstinate, capable and forthright I will be when faced with a challenge. I'm the first one to jump in when anyone else has a problem - and yet people struggle to get in and give me the kind of help they see I need. Heaven forbid they push too hard, because those circling sharks can attack in a moment's notice should anyone get too close! So the fact that my friends have finally felt able to tell me this, coupled with the fact that I am listening, is a big sign for me that I am finally freeing myself.

Which brings me nicely back to the point about my chosen career to coach and develop teams and individuals. And I can't help but laugh at the irony. Because for more years than I care to remember, I have been advising people to put themselves first. To find ways of accepting more of who they are, and to live their life through choice rather than need. And you know what? Now that I've finally 'got it', I am more than happy to embrace the fact that everything I do is indeed for me - because that's what life is about, and it's the only way to truly walk the talk and be authentic! So... yes, I coach and encourage people because it's good for me. I choose my profession because I like what I'm doing. I live my life to please myself - because then, and only then, can I help others as well.

And by accepting that, I believe I have finally and completely moved out of the 'survival' mode that has been my unconscious programme for nearly all of my life. Because finally, by putting myself first, and by listening to my body and my soul, I can live life in joy. Today, for example, it's now way past 2pm and I'm perched in the middle of my French kitchen in my pyjamas. I am wearing a pair of high heeled shoes I bought yesterday because I like the feel of them on my feet. The double butler sink in front of me has dirty plates in it, and I've just eaten some home-made tomato soup that I made last night. Now I am about to make myself a Nespresso coffee with sugar - and I might even have a square of dark chocolate with it! There are countless things I could be doing for work - but quite frankly I am choosing not to. This is my time, and today I shall spend it as I like, because we never know what's around the corner.

A couple of weekends ago, my dear neighbour died very suddenly from a brain haemorrhage. She was loved by many people, and was always full of life and laughter - so it came as a huge shock to everyone who knew her. She leaves behind grown up children and a husband who now simply doesn't know what to do with himself. Would she have approved of my get-up today? Silky pyjamas, high heeled shoes, and writing my blog in the middle of a messy kitchen?

Darned right she would. She'd probably have laughed like a drain and come along to join me. Bless you, Jacqueline, and rest in peace. I'm sure your smile and laughter is now lighting up the lives of many others who have passed before you. I raise my coffee cup to you my lovely friend - one day we'll see each other again. Until then, I shall continue to live life to the full and wear pyjamas and high heeled shoes whenever I like - Cheers!

30 Years Ago Today

Today marks an anniversary. On this day, thirty years ago, my mother lost her fight against breast cancer. The disease took her quickly, as we had only known about it for less than a month before, although she had had her suspicions for a long time previously - fear had stopped her from taking action. 

My sister called this morning and asked how I was - and I asked the same of her. We talked for a while, as we always do on this anniversary, and as I put the phone down I began to think. And I began to cry - silent emotions filling my heart, misting my vision until the warm wet tears spilled gently down my cheeks. And I wondered who or what the tears were for... so, as is now my way, I decided to write it through... to put it down in words and make sense of the feelings that are rumbling inside me. For this is a definite rumble - none of the crashing, churning bone-breaking stuff of the past two years. No, this is something that deserves appreciation and gentle attention - so that is what I'm doing. Paying attention to whatever is going on for me, and doing my best to appreciate with gratitude the gift that's behind it - for there is always always a gift.

Today I am one more year further on from that day. One more year older (though not necessarily wiser) and one more year along the roller-coaster journey that is my life. And I am lucky. For already, at 46, I have lived two years longer than my mother (and nine years longer than my father). I know all the good things that I am and that I have today - and I am lucky enough to have learned to appreciate life with more senses, colours, sounds and feelings than ever before. It is vibrant. Exhilarating. Intoxicating. And I am learning to ride with the twists and turns that continue to show themselves. So I don't think the rumbles are anything to do with 'today' - no, I think they're something to do with an older place, perhaps even primal.

Hearing my sister brought it home I think. You see, as she was talking, and as we acknowledged how many years had passed since that life-shattering day, I was suddenly transported back to the senses and feelings of that time. You may remember from previous posts that we had both learned to keep our emotions controlled. How to maintain a strong exterior in the hope it would hold everything together. We learned to move along with swan-like grace while our legs and feet paddled like fury below the surface, not just to keep us afloat but also to kick at the monsters that were lurking beneath and threatening to engulf us at any moment. Our hearts were constantly pounding, thumping at our chests from the terror and exhaustion of the situation - but nobody knew.

When mum had first gone in to hospital, just ten days earlier, my sister and I were the only two people who knew what was wrong with her. Nobody was to know - and, had I not confronted her with my own intuition, I suspect that we would not have known either. So we kept this dreadful secret. We smiled at our grandmother who had come to look after us, we carried on as usual at school, and we said nothing to our friends. We believed that if we stayed strong and brave, that this unimaginable nightmare would pass and that everything would return to normal. But of course it didn't. And when she died, I think it was just too much to comprehend. We both just went in to shock and literally shut down.

My sister was 11 years old and I had just turned 16 - and as I look back now at those two little girls who were so suddenly orphaned, both so lost and frightened, stuck in a reality from which there was no escape, my heart bursts with sadness and also with pride. We were so very vulnerable, yet somehow managing to keep ourselves together (at least on the outside) little realising the years of misery that were to follow as we trapped and at the mercy of adults who clearly had no comprehension or interest in our welfare. Our lives were, quite literally, turned upside down. We had to leave our home and our friends, moving to a new town to live with people we hardly knew - and where we never felt welcomed or at home. For the first few weeks of our new life I was on a camp-bed in the dining room...

In those dark days, months and years that followed on from 6th February 1981, I am pretty sure that I would not have had the strength to carry on had it not been for my little sister. Yes, of course I felt responsible to look out for her - and I'm sure that was a huge part of what kept me going. But more than that, it was the love and support that she showed me in return - that was the most important thing. That was what kept me strong and determined, even in the face of relentless and unimaginable horrors. We both passed all our school exams with flying colours, both went to university (although I dropped out) and in the years that followed have both become successful professional people with great reputations in our own fields. Quite an achievement I'd say!

And so now I turn my attention to my son, Dylan, who is today only a few months younger than I was when my life changed for ever. And it really brings everything home to me with a bang. People often tell me that my son is mature beyond his years - although some say it as though it's a bad thing, that he's left his childhood too quickly. I can understand their point of view, and I can also appreciate why some may feel he's becoming a young man too fast for his years. But, then again, they don't see the child-like behaviour that comes out when he and I are alone and watching a DVD in front of the fire, or the silly playground face-pulling games we still play when nobody's around. These are the private codes we share between us, and one of the many connections that make me so proud to have him as my son.

Yes, I accept it's true, I'm sure I've played a part in speeding up his development - and you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. Mum always spoke to me as an adult, and I'm certain that was one of the many things that helped me get through the tough times. So I have always done the same with Dylan. And, because of my own experiences, and because he has no siblings, I am also very conscious that he has as many life tools at his disposal as early as possible. I fully understand that fate and fortune can turn on a sixpence, so I am keen for my son to be well equipped for any eventuality.

And the past couple of years have proven to me that indeed he is. Because he has already gone through his own tsunami with the shock and aftermath of Cam's disappearance. And he's shone through all of this as a strong, wise, beautiful human being. Because of him I stayed strong, knowing I had to be here for him - much like I felt about my sister after mum's death. And, like the experience with my sister, I realise that what helped me even more was the unconditional love and support that my son gave to me at the same time. That was what really got me through.

So where is the gift? Well, I have already been inundated with countless blessings as a result of difficult circumstances. Today, though, I think the gift I've found through those rumbling emotions is this. It's gratitude for the love and connection I share with my sister and my son - my cherished family. Two people who've been through the storms and have survived. Two people who I know I can count on and who can count on me. To Dylan and to Abigail - I love you.

And bringing that sense of love and gratitude to the surface has just made my day more radiant than it was before I started writing - so thank you for reading!

And to mum? Thank you for making me the person that I am. I hope I'm doing you proud, and I know that one day we'll all be together again - not too soon though, eh? There's a fair few more decades and plenty of adventuring left in me yet - bring it on!

The Journeyman's Code

I have always believed in the term soul mate - for various reasons it has a strong meaning for me. To me, a soul mate is somebody you're destined to be with. Somebody you've known for many lifetimes. Somebody who you reconnect with in order to grow and develop together. Soul mates are normally loving and caring, and when they come together the result is usually explosive.

I freely referred to Cam as my soul mate - in many ways I still believe that to be the case. Yes, it was explosive when we came together, and yes for me it was an immensely loving experience. And through everything that has happened in the meantime, I have most certainly grown and developed within my soul and as a human being. So, at this moment in time, I'm still of the belief that perhaps he was my soul mate - of sorts.

This week I've learned a new terminology that I hadn't heard of before. It was explained to me by a wise friend of mine I hold very dear. For now I'll call him Patrick. Over the past couple of years I have been impressed by the kindness and support he has offered me - persistent when I didn't want to listen, and consistent in his gentle but firm approach with me - to the point where a few days ago I said it felt as though he was a soul mate to me. I was surprised by his response. He rebuffed the term because he didn't like it - not because he didn't hold with the meaning behind it, but because he wasn't happy to go by a meaningful name that had previously been given to other people in my life. I could understand his point and, to be fair, he is quite unlike anybody I have known before! He went on to explain that rather than a soulmate, he saw himself as a Journeyman. Somebody who was first and foremost my friend. Somebody who's energy had been connected with me for hundreds of years. Somebody who was destined to turn up in my life to guide and support me. Somebody to challenge me and help me develop as a soul and as a human being. And you know what? I totally agree - he has done, and continues to do all of those things. And I love his definition.

So, as is the way, I felt compelled to write about what I am learning to be The Journeyman's Code. From the few words I've shared to explain the way Patrick describes a Journeyman, you could well imagine him to be one of those incense burning, purple-clad dreadlocked hippy spiritual types who follow the stars and talk about energies, rebirths and reincarnation as though they were all perfectly normal daily occurances. Now, don't get me wrong, I have huge respect for those people and have known many as friends and colleagues. It's just that Patrick, you see, is (in his words) a hairy arsed bloke's bloke - loud and large, and someone you just wouldn't mess with. Since the first time I met him, some six or seven years ago, I called him an enigma. Working in the hospitality industry at the time, he and I would lock horns and butt heads - both stubborn and passionate about our beliefs. He was a person who could rile me - because although it was fun to debate, I could never win an argument with him. He'd put on his thick skin, dig his heels in, and maintain his steely-eyed smile no matter which way I turned. It was infuriating!

After the whole Cam fiasco, he called me on numerous occasions - but I didn't trust him. I didn't understand why he would be concerned about me, and my general paranoia was digging at my reasoning mind, whispering the accusations that perhaps he was just trying to glean information to feed back to my estranged husband. He knew us both, you see, and I had understood him to be a good friend with my husband "We look similar and we've got the same ideas about life - it's as though we're brothers!" Cam would enthuse, both in private and in front of Patrick - which, I suppose, was why I would find my frustrations rising when I felt I couldn't quite connect with him, because no matter the subject, we'd always find something on which to disagree.

I already knew Patrick to be a caring soul - one of those who will stop whatever he's doing in order to help somebody else, no matter what. So I suppose I shouldn't really have been so surprised at his persistent phone calls, just checking up on how I was doing and what was happening. Never intrusive, always calm and strong, he just kept on calling with his consistent message - concern about how I was looking after myself and constant offers of help and advice. And that's how, over time, Patrick and I have become such firm and loyal friends. And that's also how, over recent times, he's shown himself to be so much more than I had ever recognised before. He's taken his time. He's demonstrated his loyalty. He's proven his worth. And on top of that he's helped me in more ways than I can explain. Patrick is one of the people I talked about in the Listen Up post of 13th December. Knowing that I love surprises - and understanding my struggle to accept kindness - he had found a way to celebrate my birthday in style. A birthday cake with candles, and banners strung around the ceiling, this was a thoughtful, striking and special experience that will stay with me for ever. It has been since that time that our conversations have developed as we've explored the more spiritual connection that defines our friendship. This is how the term Journeyman has come in to existence - and now, this is how I refer to him. Because that is what he is.

The Journeyman's Code, I am finding, is very straight forward. It's a challenge, yes, and it surely brings home the saying to never judge a book by it's cover! As I said, I used to call him an enigma - well, as the weeks go on, that is proving to be a ridiculous understatement. It would be like calling Facebook's Mark Zuckerburg "fairly well-off" or Princess Diana "relatively well known". I have come to understand that, when the time is right, a Journeyman will show himself to you. Until you are ready to receive his wisdom, he will stay in the shadows - a part of your life, but keeping his true purpose undercover until the time is right.

A Journeyman will always tell it like it is. He will disregard a flippant answer and will gently cajole for the truth in every situation. Non-judgemental, he will not be hurried or rushed. He understands our deepest fears, and sympathises with the confusions of past experiences. He will listen. He will advise. He will ask the questions that help us find our own solutions. He is filled with energy and determination - he has the strength to stop a rhino in it's tracks, and also the gentleness to cradle a butterfly in his hands. His role cannot be easy - it must be frustrating knowing he can help but having to bide his time. And by the same token, since he IS so driven to help others, I would hope that once his student is willing to learn, his mission becomes one of joy and enrichment.

I hope so. Because I am now a very willing student, and I am learning so much from this remarkable man. He pushes me when I need a shove, he congratulates me when I've achieved a new goal, his work ethic is second to none and he keeps my feet on the ground and my focus clear. He constantly surprises me with his insights, which seem to come out of nowhere. He talks in metaphors that paint such beautiful pictures anyone can understand. He makes me laugh with his stories - and at the same time, you know what? He's always spot on.

I feel honoured that he's decided to show me who he is - it must have taken a huge amount of trust. Because he has a soft underbelly that goes along with his tough gruff exterior - and I don't know how many people understand that. I know that I certainly had no appreciation of the hidden depths that lie within this extraordinary man, and I'd like to think that I'm a pretty good reader of people! No, for whatever reason he's decided to show himself to me - and for that I will always hold him in the highest respect, no matter where this journey takes us.

My Journeyman, for me, is the strongest ally I could ever have asked for right now - so I feel safe but at the same time scared, because now when we talk, it's exactly like talking to myself. I guess the truth must be that, since I'm only now finding my true self, he has only recently been able to show himself to me.

Hmmm... now there's a thought... perhaps I'm here to help him too...?