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Showing posts from 2020

The curates egg of feeling “too” much

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  Have you ever read a book that made you sob uncontrollably? Watched a film that left you weeping with abandon?...... Felt the unhappiness of another person pour into you like rain from a gutter into an overflow barrel? Yeah. That last one is less common. Especially when that person might be a complete stranger or even someone that you really don’t WANT to feel anything for.  I have never really worked out if it is an extraordinary privilege or horrendous curse to be an empath.  There are distinct pros to it.  We build relationships quickly and strongly We are natural “helpers” We find beauty in the most unusual and dark places We draw people together with our ability to read the needs and wants of others We are excellent “mimics” and actors having become chameleon-like and canny in our attempts to people please, blend in & not upset people We have an affinity with the world around us that often translates as creativity We are self reflective and constantly adapting, as versatile

Carpets and doormats

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I have spent my life being a distinctly average, decidedly GOOD girl. I got good grades at school. I won a prize for music. I did ok at A levels. Yes, I kissed boys and drank cider but I was mainly just... average. I didn’t stick out.  Deliberately.  At first school I was honest and open about loving reading. I revelled in nerdiness and embraced the geek. I talked with my very average, neutral accent without thought of whether it made me different.  It did. In a small village school filled with the children of farmers I stuck out like a whacking great hypodermic in their haystack. I was bullied relentlessly from 8-14.  So at high school I learned the art of people pleasing. I made sure to blend in. I didn’t challenge the people who took my dinner money or who copied my homework. I didn’t snitch. I didn’t complain. I smiled, looked at my shoes, kept my head down.  I became a doormat. I didn’t go through the teenage anger or moods that most girls do. I was just quietly polite. Helpful. K

My last ever blog

My voice Less than a week: That’s how long my crime reference number was in my possession and valid. 11 months: that’s how long I carried a secret that poisoned me. The rest of my life: that’s how long this will stay with me.  Less than two days: that’s how much time it took for people to insinuate I might not be being truthful.  Less than a week: that’s how long it took for this country and it’s legal system to let down yet another vulnerable, scared person who thought that coming forward was the “Right” thing to do.  Let me explain a little of my experience. Actually, first, let me explain a little about me.  I am, fundamentally, a good person. I strive for kindness in all I do. I try to help, to care, to nurture. My core beliefs and driving forces are empathy and fairness.  I always believed that empathy was the strongest influencer. I was wrong.  My sense of fairness gave me the strength to speak about something that turns my stomach, something which makes me w

Belief in Kindness

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Have you ever lost yourself? Been uncertain of who or why you are? I have. It is terrifying. You allow yourself to be pulled and pushed by the tides of life, directionless and drowning. You don’t know if you will ever know yourself again. Maybe your feet will never stand solidly on anything? Teaching is an investment. There should be a donor card when you qualify that lets you know that you are sacrificing heart and soul to the profession. The more you teach, the more you accumulatively give. If you are naturally a generous person without reinforced boundaries then, like an insatiable animal, teaching will take everything. You assimilate. No longer are you The Sportsman, The Musician, The Actress, The Artist, The Best friend, The Clown. Now you are The Teacher. Part of a hive of other teachers all emotionally attached to the profession. This sounds horrific but it’s actually comforting, habitual and consuming. You belong. You have purpose. You have a clear sense of w

A Renaissance of Kindness

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Parva, Magna, Crescunt (My old school motto has never felt more apt) The world rebuilds and repairs in a continuous cycle. The earth heals, discards, adapts and evolves. As a species, humans are adept at adaptation. Our existence has been one fraught with challenge and change. The question that needs to be asked is not IF we will evolve from the recent crisis but HOW. How will we adapt? Will we actively choose the direction of our “reinvention”? Will we be swept along with a tidal wave of power plays? Will we attempt to retain everything we are familiar with and resist the change that is inevitable?  These choices of attitude will shape the future of humanity as we know it. We have an opportunity for renaissance on the horizon. Will we choose to innovate, become chimera-like in our ventures? Or will we let a moment for rebirth pass; maintain the status quo that has been “satisfactory” for most? I have been getting back in touch with nature. I used to love my garde

Keeping it kind

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It is at these times that I have always been taught to “look for the helpers”. When life is truly challenging it brings out the real and varied nature of humans. Our responses are instinctive. They reflect our true selves.   I have seen some appalling behaviour from our species over the past few weeks. People stealing, shoving, fighting, behaving recklessly and inconsiderately. There have been unkind acts and unkind words.  But facing this down has been a tidal wave of goodness. Of people doing the right thing. People choosing to behave with kindness. It has been a great thing to witness.  My neighbourhood has started a Bear Hunt. When the younger children head out for a short circuit of the cup de sac for exercise and sunshine they can try and spot all the Bears that have been placed around people’s houses: in windows, on porches, up trees! They change location daily!  Our parish has created a vulnerable list and people have volunteered to shop, collec

Capacity for Kindness

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This blog is prompted by the words of someone that I once considered an unshakeable, lifelong friend. In a recent falling out (unpleasant but it happens and I’m generally quite quick to try and fix things and move on) words were written on a page that I don’t know if I can forget. I can forgive because I know they were written in haste and anger and their unkindness and impact was not considered or measured by the writer at the time. But I will struggle to forget.  I have dealt with sporadic episodes of anxiety and depression for over 20 years. As a teen I was suicidal and have found myself on the edge of that path again subsequently at intervals in the following two decades. Luckily I have incredible friends and family and a strong self preservation instinct in the moment. But this doesn’t change the thoughts that led me to that point.  The writer expressed their anger over my “misery” and “cry wolf” attitude. They found me boring and a burden.  Anyone who has E

Being kind in a crisis

I will be honest. My temper has flared slightly during the oppressive anxiety storm surrounding Coronavirus. I have felt tautly on edge.  Until I realised that this helped no one. Not me. Not others.  I decided to look at my options;  A/ I could focus entirely on me. No one would blame me in the current situation. Hide away from the world and pretend it wasn’t happening.  B/ I could panic, indulge the click bate, stock-pile shop and generally add to the chaos  C/ take practical measure to make sur I was ok but also that others were ok too!  I did a bit of A & B before quickly reaching C.  “Coronavirus: What can I do to help?” That was my google search. It came up with some truly common sense advice like “wash your hands”. Well, ok then but seriously HOW CAN I HELP?  I eventually found a page suggesting volunteering, delivering survival packages to those self isolating, setting up digital communications for the elderly who might be lonely once the over 70 isolation kicks in.  Not fo

The Being in wellbeing

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Do you ever feel like nothing you do is quite enough? Like you try but never quite live up to your own expectations or the expectations of others? Like just “being” is a challenge? With more and more people being honest and open about imposter syndrome and mental health at the moment it feels like an ideal time to say this: If so many people feel this way then the problem is unlikely to be with them. Six months ago I walked away from an “opportunity”. If I’m honest I still berate myself for doing so even though I know it wasn’t MY opportunity. It wasn’t right for me. But the expectation of society is that we MAKE things work. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was emotionally and compassionately fatigued. Something had to change and, despite two decades of trying, I realised it wasn’t going to be me. I felt my world start to slide and spin. The substance beneath me shift and crumble. If I wasn’t a teacher then who was I? Fifteen years of identifying as “Miss”. I felt lost, frig

Contagious Kindness

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I have thought a lot recently about how things spread. Having lived in China for three years, I have been concerned with the welfare of many friends still out there who are dealing with the impact of the Coronavirus. Checking in with people to see if they had made it back to their home countries during evacuation made me realise just how sparse my connections to them had been previously. It took an international crisis to bring us closer again. This also got me thinking and reminiscing about China, something that has been painful to do for many reasons, but this time it was a positive reflection. I remembered the village I lived in. In the shadow of a huge, sprawling city but still a vibrant, close knit community. Kids would play together outside, parents and grandparents sat on doorsteps or pavements chatting, playing cards. The local park would buzz with villagers walking morning and evening, groups practising kung fu, old men with their song birds and ladies dancing in uni

Kindness vs Niceness

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People often assume that to be kind means we are “nice”. It is simply not true. One is an action or intent born of genuine care for ourselves and others. The other is a people pleasing approach that can encourage inequality, unfairness and bullying.  Being kind does not mean turning a blind eye to unpleasantness. It does not mean ignoring the damaging actions of individuals or groups.  Being kind can sometimes mean being strongly, firmly in opposition to something. We must make sure though that we are not drawn into nastiness, griping and unkindness by the attitudes and provocation of other people.  This is much easier said than done.  I find the best way is to tackle the behaviour rather than the perpetrators. Rather than: “You are a liar and unpleasant. You do and say horrible things” Instead I approach it as: “Lying is a slippery slope. As is unnecessary unpleasantness. If everyone thought before commenting then the world would be far more pleasant” May