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Still Trying S o f t e r...

This is the year I discovered hope. 

© Maggie Sawkins 2017 My word art on Etsy.

Seems very simplistic to say, but I honestly didn't truly know that there was a point to hope, ‘hoping against hope’ and so on. I thought that it was somewhat futile, empty of purpose: ‘you can hope but it will not make it so’. Yes, I’ve had a glass-half-empty lack of optimism more of the time than not, bless me. I'm so grateful to have tuned in to Deepak Chopra and Oprah Winfrey who together offered 'Hope in Uncertain Times' over three weeks earlier this year. 

It opened my eyes, my thinking and my heart. What if hope, really was a thing? ‘My hope is my rock’, maybe. So amazing how life throws up stuff - how new pennies can suddenly drop. And in such uncertain times or in personal times of struggle or change, and on a daily basis, it is a necessity to live in hope. I very much appreciate these meditations given freely to us all - bringing me such encouragement.

And yet, paradoxically, I did think that there is a point to having faith, learning to trust, to take steps towards a desired outcome. I have a tentative belief that there must be some point to it all. Faith without hope: how so?

Faith has been built very slowly as life’s trials and tests have come and gone and I have found even in the darkest of moments, something does carry me along. A footsteps-in-the-sand experience. People often, being there when needed. But hope, I gave up very early on I think. Being an obedient child, (except when I wasn't), I didn't feel there was much point to yearn for things. I was a more often a passive participant; I learnt to go along with expectations and adapt to manage the situations I found myself in. I could do a good job of trying my best (later to become a good teacher for instance, even when unhappy, because I didn't know what I really wanted to do), and trudging and accepting that this was my lot. 

I did do lots of good stuff, but I was full of resignation and struggle. In my early twenties at art school (and on leaving), this led to feeling utterly desolate and without hope. I was in a catch twenty-two of my own making. I had studied something I chose (not because it made my heart sing but more, ‘I should do this, it will lead to a job’) and also found myself unable to complete the assignments. This was at a point where my emotional state was very bleak. I broke down once a week when I saw the college counsellor… I did though, take the advice to keep going, not to walk away. I passed the course by tutors giving me personal projects that I could go and do alone. I've repeated this pattern several times: 'this will be a good idea' - then - 'this is not what I want!' I guess I put a ladder up against the wrong wall early on and have been trying to find the right one ever since.

By falling into a habit of meeting external expectations, the loss of self that started so early on continues to confuse choices, decisions and preferences thereafter. It is only by trial and error and making wrong choices, over and again, does the path become gradually revealed. Like the proverbial ship, being off course a lot of the time is the route to being on course and 'arriving' at a destination.

I guess this is true for many - but for the adult child, it’s all the more confusing. Putting so much effort in (often our workaholic coping strategy) can be very perplexing when things don't work out. I’ve shared here before how I was teased (shamed) by someone saying, ’I’ve never seen you work hard for anything, Maggie!’ Being so suggestible, (another default setting), I took the words to be true. Only twenty-plus years later did I discover my truth; that he was absolutely wrong.

I’ve worked really hard for lots of things. Too hard, over and over, and on oh so many things, too many maybe. A couple of fellow creatives met with me weekly for a while. It was they who suggested I stop taking so many actions. I can slog, try, try another thing, do more on one, forget about the other, try with a business coach, try a meetup, a webinar, a new workshop, another course, another coach; you get the drift. Constantly looking outside myself and pushing myself to achieve…figure it out, get 'the answer'. My job is to enjoy my life.

I do know but I forget daily, it is not about taking action; it is about taking the right action. It is not about pushing or driving myself, it is about simplifying the path. As Deepak says this month, "The most empowering step we can take is to discover the truth within: who am I?" 

Sit still and listen. Let ideas float up by doing less not more. Walking in nature. Talk to people. Take fewer distracting actions, read less social media posts. My work is to live: to be here now, in this moment, remembering to trust. Can I be guided by my heart’s desire: to create a world where people can be real? That starts with being real myself. And trying softer, even softer.

Listen like you mean it

© Maggie Sawkins 2017 My word art on Etsy.

True listening is effortful. It requires that we put aside our own agenda, any internal commentary or ‘busy-head’ obsessions of the moment and pay quality attention. Even if only bite-size, say for three minutes of quality listening, you will be giving what we all crave: someone else’s undivided attention. 

Over 20+ years, I’ve sat on many dozens of occasions in all sorts of rooms, with two or more people who've ended up there due to an inability or lack of willingness to talk, or more fundamentally to listen, and hear what the other has to say. 

It may sound simple, but it is not easy. When we are struggling, we don't want to hear the other's point of view. We like what we think and we don't want to encounter things that go against what we think. We avoid it with a fear of ‘what might happen?’ or ‘making it worse’. But eventually, getting the chance to speak without interruption and be fully understood, helps a person begin to process their conflict.  

In mediation it slows down a difficult conversation. When we are able to listen - and truly hear another - we have a chance to begin to understand, resolve our differences and find a way forward.

And above all it takes courage to be willing to listen. Not interpret, or ‘here’s my version of what you said’, not counsel with advice or detective-style evidence gathering, but truly hear and register what is true for the other. We can all do this: be like a mirror; reflect back what we actually heard, check we have understood someone else’s reality. 

After all, as Thomas Gordon outlines, there are many, many potential blocks to listening. There’ll be facts we’re assuming or ‘mind-reading’, let alone the numerous distractions we suffer if our own needs are going unmet. And much depends on the context, the content, and any misfiring expectations that there may be. No wonder we find it so difficult: its amazing any of us get on at all! 

On the train home after teaching a course on ‘Listening & Responding',(!) for charity volunteers, I was distracted by the two people in the next set of seats. I registered the woman manager saying the same thing intensely, a couple of times: it started to bug me. Long day with a very early start and patience had run out clearly. 

It transpired that her colleague had missed an action that severely affected her workload. ‘Its not a big deal…’(it obviously was) 'but it means I’m really going to be under pressure…’ He kept reiterating how they’d manage, but she continued to repeat the issue over and over and over, all the way from Cambridge to London and yet again as they left the train. 

At first in my post-course tiredness I was irritated, but then ‘woke up’, bless me: its because she hasn't yet felt heard by him. Had her colleague not brushed away her complaints with the 'fix' but REALLY acknowledged the effect of his actions, heard her frustration and showed understanding, she may have then been able to register and let it go: she might not have repeated a virtually identical sentence, a dozen times. 

I know for myself that I can give my best listening when wearing my professional mediation or coaching hats, and then fall off the active listening wagon miserably with a friend or family member. It is so dependent on fielding any of the obstacles above; and sometimes history really does get in the way. I’m learning all the time and awareness is key. If I know I might get a button pushed, and if I remember, I can do my imperfect best to prepare for that. 

The thing I really love about the art of listening without prejudice, it that it truly simplifies life. All we need to do, is to utterly, impeccably, pay attention. And when we do, it will still be imperfect. But a willingness to really be still, in body and mind and hear what the other person is saying, is all. To rein attention back from all obvious distractions and invite them to ‘So, tell me…’.

Being heard. Feeling understood. A sense of acceptance maybe, relief. We don't need to pay for it, we can ask for it. And it works. I have several relationships where we exchange this sort of listening, as and when. We might summarise with only the ‘headlines’ instead of reflect all we heard, but that works too. 

I know from being heard: getting that inner gut release or 'aaahhh' and having heard hundreds of others, that giving this attention in and of itself is a genuine and rare gift that can make the world of difference.  

'Be a good listener. Your ears will never get you in trouble.' Frank Tyger

How do I do it, this thing?

How? Start with the end in mind. This advice has served me well. It worked with students working towards exams, and these days on workshops where participants will achieve speaking without notes for example, and always I'm re-learning it for myself. 

Work in progress © Maggie Sawkins 2017
My word art on Etsy

I know the exercise is a good one for life. Way back, when I started on this path, it was because I felt so odd and unhappy in my own skin. I was introduced to the idea of creating the obituary you'd like others to write about you. So it pushed the questions; what is my life for? Or what truly matters to me? And more recently after lots of procrastination, I finally made a will and thought about the bequests I might want to make and funeral plans that would reflect my preferences. 

Sometimes when I sit still for long enough with no agenda and off the wheel of a ‘busy’ life, it all makes perfect sense to start with the end in mind. 

As readers of this blog will know there's been much reflection as I look through the papers of thirty years of work. I have not always felt in charge of the direction taken. Sometimes I found myself in situations that seemed like a ‘good idea’ but later felt very stifling. I have felt heartbroken from all the effort. There'd be a burnout or a break-down of sorts. Then there are relationships that set out with promise (even love and marriage) but turn out to be far from functional. Some choices I've made have not been so clever. I’ve often put huge amounts of effort in the not-quite-right direction.

I am on the bridge of a ship where I can't see ahead at all well - there is a lot of fog - but I know that degree at a time, the ship is being turned around to point more and more accurately on a course that fits. This has taken willingness to resign from 'figuring it out'. A life is not a problem to be solved. My brain hasn’t got the answers anyway (lord knows I’ve spent huge amounts of time and money trying to find them…) And it definitely won’t have the answers under pressure. This is the time to walk in the park, sit or smell the roses. Creativity is about having the time to have the ideas. 

So whilst this ship is turning, I continue to put my thoughts down here, plan a possible book and focus on the bigger message. I would like to end my life having more money than I need, so that I could give lots to meaningful projects that make a difference to lots of lives.

In my ideal world litter would be no more, art would be everywhere and planning committees would have artistic sensibilities. The Ministry of Kindness would have convinced politicians to re-build the NHS in its original image where there is care enough for all. Care would involve people of all ages supporting each other.

We would once again see food waste as a crime and ensure food gets eaten not thrown away. Young men trapped in gang life, would have received the esteem they seek in new ways of changing their locale by entrepreneurship. Someone would have invented chewing gum that no longer sticks to the street but by now, people wouldn't be spitting any longer. This weekend past I'm grateful for inspiring and wonderful ideas from diverse speakers TEDxEastEnd to help me keep the faith. 

Meanwhile my course is set on helping others get heard: to find courage to speak when they thought it was impossible. To resolve matters where they are in dispute, to listen like it matters. And all of us to realise that we are all ‘good enough’ and don't need to change in order to be ‘better’. I really don't know how to achieve many things that I would like to. But I know that thrashing my fragile ego over the coals definitely does not work. I will continue to start with the end in mind, work my way back and see what today, is the right next small step. x

The courage required

Do nothing for 15 minutes: nothing. Not listening, not reading, not thinking. Just sit. 

© Maggie Sawkins, 2016
All rights reserved

This is step one of The Joy Diet by Martha Beck. I loved her North Star book but this one gave me the gem of sitting and doing nothing; notice what you notice. Feel the feelings. Have the thoughts and look around and just be. 

How much does our culture suggest this? Not much. It's growing now, this awareness that mindful anything is better that automatic pilot. How many of us are still running on adrenaline, habit or expectation? 

Thank goodness, the crisis in the neglect of mental health services here in the UK, may help nudge our growing awareness: how do we neglect our own mental health? 

In my case, I took on the pressures until they squeezed the life out of me. I did so much from duty; I learnt to de-press. And to repress and restrain any instinct and desire towards self expression. I learnt to do the right thing, do what was expected, keep up with the programme. Yes, I did lovely stuff along the way - but the altered self was still mostly running the show. The paradox of doing too much.

Turning this ship around is a delicate, one-degree-at-a-time process, not a sudden overnight success. Even the notion of having preferences, discernment or goals for my life has been SO uncomfortable. Don't ask me what I want, I don't know! 

I know what I think I should want, or what makes me feel safe. Having big dreams and goals is distinctly uncomfortable. But somehow, the process is bringing me towards and into my true self. I am beginning to have a simpler life, a business that brings me more income doing things I love. I'm making a difference doing what I'm good at. 

The paradox is that any of this will not be changed by frantic or urgent activity. That is how I used to do it and look where that got me. Now I follow courage to do less, and sometimes, nothing. To know that today is all there is; that waiting is also an action. 

When I hear of a vibrant 30-something, dying suddenly of a brain haemorrhage at her desk, it wakes me up again. My job is to enjoy my life: TODAY. I do know that I feel better when I slow down. Or under-schedule. Or plan a lovely treat that is close to my heart.

I’m heading out to join the other freelance laptops in the cafe on the green, when "Hah! I haven't meditated today." (I’m a very imperfect meditator.) So I allow myself 5 minutes of meditation. Then another stretch; I can follow my own advice, and find the courage to just look at the trees for another wee while before starting work.

As they say, 'don't just do something, sit there!'. This moment is all we have - the birds just twittered to remind me. x

When I believe it...

Work in progress July 2016
© Maggie Sawkins All rights reserved

For reasons too many to describe, along the way and from a very young age, I picked up a belief that I was broken, abnormal and most likely, 'unstable'. Today whilst painting this, I had a moment, a lovely, fleeting 'hope is like the thing with feathers' type moment: a thought, 'maybe I could live a positive life'. 

What if it were also possible to be relationship material, a successful sole trader, to live without the decades-long-in-my-bones-belief, that I am strange or weird or wrong. What if I could spend the rest of my life however long it is, led by the fact it is my one and only life and really love it.

I revert daily to a sense that there is a debt or dues that need paying, before I am allowed to have 'my' life. I grew up with the sense that my time is not mine to spend how I choose (that might well of course be contributing to others) but there are things I 'should be doing'. Sometimes I slip into this agenda, feel 'off the hook' for a bit and ‘free’ until the next time.

I want to build on this possibility that I could be happy - Facebook tells me 'happy is the new rich' and spend my time wisely. Like the precious-never-to-be-repeated commodity that it is. Really? What if that were possible.  Of course it could be and it is a lot more that way than it used to be. With lots of obstacles and diversions along the way, of course. How well do we encourage our kids to do this? Or are they too, on a fast track of exam taking and deciding what they want to 'be'.

Jo Cox, inspiring in her life-affirming modelling of passion and belief, knew why she was here: we are in her debt. Her life has been witness, as John Sentanu said in the days following her murder. It is heartbreaking. And yet you Jo, have helped to give me some increased hope. Your life looked like it was well lived.

I am doing the work to sweep my side of the street: to clear the psychological blocks that are interfering with me having a wonderful life. I'm paying attention and doing more of the things that give me joy. Of course, I get sidetracked into trying to figure it out, following other peoples suggestions… and wondering yet again what I 'should be doing' next. I recently heard Deepak Chopra: "Rather than, 'I’ll believe it when I see it', try, 'I'll see it when I believe it'..." And so I feel now, that the faith needs to come first. 

If I do what I believe in, and listen to my heart, I will write and paint and visualise the beautiful website I want. I will continue to do my thing. I will contribute my skills at encouraging others to live through fear and learn to speak in front of people, tell their story or develop the art of truly listening. I will keep encouraging people to be themselves, me included. I will take my time, appreciate each new day, smell the roses. This life is mine, and I'm beginning to believe it.

Birdsong...

 

© Maggie Sawkins 2014 All rights reserved 

My art work on Etsy

The thing I really love about living on the city's edge… is hearing the birds in the morning. They've made a home here too. We have ivy growing profusely, some overgrown shrubs and a few trees. I love the fact that they live here and are around to greet me every day, sometimes also with our own Mr Fox. It is a very precious thing. 

Even when three fully-grown trees were chopped after causing problems for the building. Even after the shrubs next door which were home to lots of little tweeters, were razed to the ground bringing a tears to my eyes when I discovered it, the birds remain. We (my neighbour and I), can't fill the bird feeders up quickly enough. They are resilient, ever present and life-affirming. 

Just stepping onto the balcony and sitting for a few minutes, can change my state of mind. I watch them, I listen and I'm so grateful for them. They remind me of my mum, who fed and watered the garden birds with love. They inspire and uplift and help me be ready for another, never-to-be-repeated day. 

The sound of the city in the background is always there, traffic rumbling before rush hour, and a siren of course periodically, but a morning in Hackney with the birds waking up, is precious indeed. x

'MUST TRY HARDER!' Really?

© Maggie Sawkins 2014 All rights reserved 

My art work on Etsy

Let me count the ways I’ve ‘tried harder’: it would be a very long list. 

These days, I am aim to let go and do life, without the permanent ‘never enough’ message whirling around. Don’t misunderstand me, its still there at every moment; I just need to listen to other, better voices, rather than register angry self-criticism at the beginning, middle or end of every step. 

I sometimes remember not to trust my first waking thought but instead sit on the balcony and listen to the birds. Some of the time these days, I get that I am a person doing her best. And despite my mind telling me to the contrary, I do a LOT.

At one point in my 30s, one of those life-defining moments happened. My flatmate’s boyfriend ('FMB') took it upon himself to tell me, with a sort of surprised tone, ‘Maggie, I’ve never seen you work really hard for anything!'

Ouch, that went in. It was not the first of his 'witty' put-downs but it was the most potent. Then one afternoon last year, as I was knee-deep in preparation for a big day, I had a sudden realisation. The stark, clear truth landed in my gut: ‘Oh my goodness, FMB was wrong… shit, HE WAS WRONG!’ And then the more important truth hit: I was wrong to believe him.

I had taken this, as I recall it, unsolicited, negative opinion and let it shape me for decades. How long, bless me, has it taken to wake to the discovery that I have worked hard at EVERYTHING. Worked too hard in fact, often without knowing truly what I was working toward, or why. 

As a culture we are gradually getting to know that we are not machines who must produce ALL the time. Looking over my colleague's shoulder, I see Sweden is experimenting with a six-hour workday: waddyaknow, 'staff wellbeing is high'!

After a hitting another wall re my unhappy relationship with my then work at the end of 2010, I finally stopped doing work that was making me miserable and/or ill. I’ve found help from so many of you out there… fellow creatives, ex-students popping out of the woodwork affirming my role, friends of Bill who are there through thick and thin, fellow workaholics seeking different way to do things, to break out of the urgent, ‘more-is-still-never-enough’ way of thinking. 

I learnt to take more time. That less IS more. To live on very little and get creative: there is lots of free stuff out there I found to enhance my life. Making do and mending - living in the day became a necessity and an education. As Carl Honoré outlines in his writing, ‘we are marinated in the culture of speed’. I didn't need truly to get anywhere. I needed to stop trying so damn hard.

I met an amazing performer and we agreed to meet monthly: to share and get witnessed, all that we’ve ever done. A wonderful chance to get a handle on, (curate?) our unique and complex work histories. Then there are my fellow entrepreneurs and mentors on a creative startups programme, helping me to harness what I offer and create a business. 

Where would I be without encouragement from those who 'see' me, and hold faith in me. I wouldn't be without any of it, even the dark days. Who was it who said, 'rock bottom is the foundation on which I built my life?' Ah yes, JK Rowling. She started from the bottom and look what resulted.  

Then there are those who are searching for simplicity, as I am. The ability to have enough, not need more stuff, to edit down the years of clothes, photos or freelance work materials. I'm gaining inspiration from The Minimalists and fellow Londoners on a similar path. 

What if all we needed to do was focus on the moment and make the utter most of it. Grateful for what I have - no need to chase 'must do more, better, faster' beliefs but to enjoy this moment, knowing that I am enough, I have enough, I do enough. Bless me, I was wrong. x

Message for Andy Murray on his #wedding speech

'Poetry is taking place...'

Thanks Elizabeth Gilbert for sharing today, this lovely quote from Philip Levine: 

’Dont scorn your life just because it's not dramatic or it's impoverished or it looks dull or it's workaday. Dont scorn it.

It is where poetry is taking place if you’ve got the sensitivity to see it, if your eyes are open.’ 

Doing life imperfectly is all there is. I started today not too sure if a 'day off' was a good idea, bless me. So many things I could be doing: attending to the many and various needs of business startup, clearing clutter in my ongoing minimalism project, painting the words I need the most, currently re-working ‘EXTREME SELF CARE'.
Let alone writing to the landlords re the botched repairs, updating my website, you get the drift. 

© Maggie Sawkins 2014 All rights reserved 
My art work on Etsy

Yet today I’m following a suggestion to put one foot in front of the other and get out and about on this glorious nearly-spring day. Walking through the sunlit city has been a joy. Seeing Marlene Dumas’ amazing portraiture at the Tate Gallery, practising being 'off' on a Tuesday. I'm listening to the sublime harmonies of First Aid Kit and looking out at the sun and  the workmen dangling on the facade of the new Tate as I write. 

I tend towards an attention-deficit habit, a butterfly mind, always juggling ‘too many’ projects. Gradually though, simplicity is coming. Thirty minutes at a time, I’m reducing the paper of years of work as an employed then freelance mediator, a trainer of mediation, public speaking in schools, art teacher, illustration student, freelance artist. 

And so much has got so much simpler. More spaces in my home, letting go of the ‘evidence’ that I worked hard. I believed someone, who with his love of the harsh put-down, once commented once that he’d ‘never seen me work hard for anything’. I took that comment and let it damage me. These days, I know he was wrong and I was wrong to believe him. I'm curating my life's work to date: letting go of the things I don't enjoy. Finding ways to love my life - not wait for it to be 'better'.

Loving the sky today… big expanse of dusty blue with the smoggy horizon, soft sun on city cranes and buildings new and old. A glorious day. This moment is all we have. How do we make choices each day to do the thing that suits us most, whilst bringing in the dollars and keeping home and self together. Do we have to suffer to live? We are making new choices each day - finding a way to live and thrive, whether we are creating the self-employed shape that work can be, or riding the merry-go-round of a 40 hour work week. Whatever we are doing, we are creating. It doesn't have to be perfect. And don't scorn it. Poetry is taking place.

Thank goodness...

© Maggie Sawkins 2014 All rights reserved
My art work on Etsy

In a lovely meeting of opportunity and effort, I’ve joined a new tribe. I applied for a third time to a course that I really wanted to do, and have been taken on. We will study, practise and stretch around the skills of entrepreneurship, along others in the creative tribe of 100 young businesses. And I feel at HOME. 

This is relevant because for so much of my life, I haven’t known where I truly am, as Ken Robinson puts it,‘in my element’. I’ve been cloudy in my awareness of what suits me or how and where can I best do my thing. No longer willing to plump for one of the many areas that I could work in, but yearning to occupy ground where I can really use myself, flourish and feel happy.

Some of us find our place in our teens on a degree course, by finding a job that works or moving from one that doesn’t. But some are quietly adrift in the world of work for years, not really finding a place that suits.  We show up (80% of success according to Woody Allen) and will be loyal, most hard-working of employees. Yet all the while, we don't know how to find our metier and natural contribution. As shape-shifters, we adapt as we go, doing our best - often doing really well - yet feeling dreadful and occasionally desperate, as we tread the rat race wheel.

I have very vivid memories of moments when I knew things were really, not good. It was not a living hell - more a slow death eating away at my life energy. Energy which had been squashed so often in order to comply, adapt and endure. 

What I needed then, when the ‘soul-destruction’ of the job I was in was dawning on me, was to stop. All I knew was how to keep going, try harder - too afraid to recognise just how much I was suffering. Eventually something stopped me. I'd submitted a paper on the risks of my current role to my new boss. Eventually when I found myself in tears for the umpteenth time, in my office, I called the employee assistance people and metaphorically held my hands up. I was done, I admitted defeat. 

I know this story (with different elements) is familiar to many. At that point, I was recently married in my 40s, sole earner with an ill husband no longer working. I'd picked up the shortfall and was existing on a cocktail of exhaustion, (steadily doing too much at home and at work), resentment (‘it shouldn't be this way 18 months after marriage…’) and bloody-mindedness: 'I have to keep going'. I started to white-knuckle it each day.

Thankfully, the endurance addiction did bottom out. I could no longer focus on a project, reading didn't make sense and all energy left me. I picked up The Joy of Burnout: read a paragraph at a time, and went to my first Workaholics Anonymous meeting. We are here to thrive not to survive, as Maya Angelou so neatly puts it. 

That was over ten years ago. Lots of interesting work has come along and I've had great opportunities. I’ve let go of bookings that repeated resulted in migraines. There were dealings with the DWP, that'll test anyone's sanity. There was a family health crisis which put us all under stress for months, with three near misses. There were gradual baby steps taken to turn the ship around, whist living on the barest minimum. It's a long story. I'm so grateful people encouraged and supported me. Picking up the paint brush helped and then I started to write... 

This is where you find me.

Through it all I've had lovely awakenings. I've finally been learning the lessons that it's never too late to learn. Life is about enjoying, living each moment. I'm now expert at having fun for free. I learnt to love the birds outside my window, relish my local park and feel each change in the seasons. As a dear friend said the other day, ‘it may not have been easy, but it will definitely be worth it'. I've found new tribes... I'm amongst people who get me. I feel at home most of the time actually. It's all worth it, nothing is wasted. 

Conversation with God (whoever you think it may be)

You may have read, what I imagine must be a great book by Neale Donald Walsch, with a title something like this. Not having read it myself, this is however what came to me this morning when I woke up feeling low. 

At one of the many times when I was needing solace after the end of my marriage; one goes on needing it over the years, as many out there will know; I went to stay with a group of nuns in Bedfordshire. Not being of a religious bent, I went for the spirit of the place, the quiet, the garden, the simple services with plainsong and the kindness. 

One of the sisters offered to be around should I want to talk or have some spiritual guidance. And that was so wonderful. To be offered the presence of a person just to be there for me. Not for payment, not for obligation, not even because they already know and love me, but just to be there and hear whatever I’d need to share and offer some thoughts. It brings tears to my eyes just telling you about it. Being heard is a true gift.

© Maggie Sawkins 2014 All rights reserved
My art work on Etsy

Thankfully this one morning it came back to me. The exercise Sister Esther I think, had suggested. To write my problems down and then answer them with my non-dominant hand as though God is speaking through it. Perhaps the closest we can get to hearing the voice of something other… in my book at least. 

'So what I need to do today...', I thought, 'is write to God and see what he says'. Here is how it went:

Me: God, I woke up dejected, I’m thinking about A and how she has made a success of HER artistic talent - could I have done that…? And she’s created a beautiful home, has a lovely man gorgeous kid…  could I have done differently if I’d done what she did…? Then God, there is all this mental clutter that comes in: ‘its all too late’, ‘I’m never going to work out how to get my art off the ground’, and ‘is that the thing I need to do anyway?’ And ‘how come I can’t kept the flat tidier?’ and ‘what about all the plans I keep forgetting that I made on paper for my business?’ and ‘I’ve forgotten about doing everything'  and then ‘I had yet another migraine at the weekend, post-training… what a mess I am… ’, and ‘should I go to this event on crowd-funding or am I kidding myself… ?’ God, why am I so self-critical? 'I should stop being so self critical', 'I should have stopped that by now, having worked on all my unhelpful character traits in such detail…' then 'was it all a waste of time, why hasn’t it worked?' And finally ‘Oh, maybe I need to talk to God…’ 

God: For goodness sake, shut the F up and get on with something you enjoy… you have a lovely flexible life and there is no big boss making it hell - except YOU! 

Me: Gosh, I didn’t expect you to be quite so blunt. I thought you were all loving and kind… no need to be RUDE! I feel a bit sorry for myself now… Even God is being nasty to me. 

God: Oh well, take what you like and leave the rest. I’m off to sort out Syria, Gaza, Nigerian emailers pretending to be the UN. That and mulling on how to get democracy to work everywhere… and finding a way to help those deluded militant boys who think killing will create a wonderful world… If only they could regain the ability they were born with to see this truth: that peace is the answer. That and anything we can do to help everyone accept themselves and find a way to accept others. And you can help with that… 

Me: Yes, I can help others and I need the help too. I teach what I most need to learn, no doubt about it. Try softer. Take risks. Be who you are. Start with the end in mind… I do know that I have something to offer. No use fighting when life can be wonderful. I can appreciate all I have in this moment. Thanks for the help God. Take it easy. Speak again soon, have a good day. 

God: You too… all you need is love. Go well. 

Me: How did the Beatles know that so young? Well here I go… Good Morning God x

Do your thing

For nearly thirty years, I’ve had this quote to memory: ‘Whatever you can do, or think you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.’ Thanks to Goethe for that one (and to JB who alerted me to it). It’s pertinent on so many levels. 

For most of my life, despite any and all appearances to the contrary, I’ve not been conscious or clear what ‘my thing’ is. I’ve been running around in a fog (never a great idea, you get all sorts of knocks), trying to fathom what I’m ‘supposed to be doing with my life’. I have been seeking answers. Where does that ‘supposed’ come from…? It's a horrid word - lives on the same shelf as 'should' and can be very confusing. It prevents my cells connecting to the essence of being alive. 

© Maggie Sawkins 2014 All rights reserved
My art work on Etsy

Early on in my journey, I truly felt I was ‘damaged goods’ and therefore needed a great deal of mending. No fun. On one of the workshops I undertook in my search, we were invited to ‘go and be with a tree’. This was not any hippie, new-age session but instead a lesson on registering what it means to be here… what purpose do we have as souls on this earth at this point?

I recall that it was a challenge to do this… to sit and ‘be’ with a tree. I knew of tree-hugging and to this day I touch them as I go past, especially the saplings, encouraging them on their way. I got from taking part in that exercise, this truth: that the tree (to the best of our knowledge) doesn’t spend its day worrying about the what, how, when and more importantly why, it is growing and changing. 

It just exists, following its nature to be it's particular species of tree and undergo the cycles of the seasons; not to question 'am I doing it properly, maybe I should be a rosebush or a pigeon…' It simply embodies its essence: juices, cells and the potential to become tall or have blossom, conkers or berries as its DNA dictates. And as far as I’m aware, it doesn’t ever ‘try’ to do any of it at any other speed than the organism that it is, allows. It is pre-programmed with this unfolding, flowering, developing  roots and branches all in good time. And it bends and sometimes breaks with the weather, the seasons and with any kid that jumps on its branches before they are strong enough to bear that kind of thing. 

So in sitting with myself and being, I begin to find a more mindful way of living, moment at a time. I develop discernment about what makes my heart sing, where I am in my element (Thanks Ken Robinson). This activity (of lack of), helps me to desist from questioning. I resign repeatedly from 'Figuring-it-out-Anonymous'. In the simplicity I look to do what I can do, to be who I truly am. That seems to me the boldest, most powerful thing I can begin to do. The genius of being who you are x