People Need Encouraging
Just a moment of recognition
Dear Friend,
There is something deeply satisfying about a blank page. Writing to you from here. When this reaches you it will be your present, my past.
Who knows when you find it, how your life will be.
Twenty five years ago, I chose a path that lead me to this moment. A step taken in the dark. There were two roads ahead of me, both shrouded in mist. The mists of time surround us on all sides. We cannot see our future. No-one can tell us what will happen next. The choice I made came out of a desire to suffer less, for connection and peace.
I found myself, sitting in a therapist’s office.
The idea that I would ever need to speak to a metal health professional was unthinkable.
Not on my radar.
Neurotic characters in Woody Allen films went to therapists, not educated working class men.
Or was I still a boy, running from becoming a ‘grown up’?
Peter Pan, desperate to return to Never Never Land.
At the time I was in a long term relationship with an artist from Paris.
We’d fallen in love on a road trip and after a few happy years we’d discovered that life together in our small London flat and our two cats, well… there was nowhere to run.
You know how it can be, loving people. Our relationship became a source of pain for both of us and my partner, being practical, looked in the yellow pages and found a therapist. The ultimatum was, she would go speak to someone. I could make my own mind, but if the choice was business as usual, the relationship was over.
Grumbling, unwillingly I agreed. I remember the dominant thought as clear as if it were today.
“Why should I waste my money on therapy just because you’re mad?”
I rode my motorcycle to the therapist’s office. I recall it being a damp Autumn evening. Still light. There were brown and gold leaves pressed into the tarmac and slick black twigs fallen by the curb. At the time I smoked roll ups.
Leaning against the bike, feeling the warmth of the engine, I filled with smoke the time at hand. Self conscious. Nervous. Resentfully hopeful. Definitely a boy child, I rang the bell.
The feeling of relief that washed over me. The leather chair seemed to cradle me and I sat and listened as someone, me apparently, poured out his heart. Someone else listened and seemed to understand. All of this self doubt. Recrimination. Confusion. Indecision. Untangling the half thoughts, self concepts - I met someone. I got to know me. I discovered what I wanted, but was afraid to want.
I took another path. Stepped into the mystery.
Over time, as I healed and learned I found myself fascinated with the human soul.
Psychology.
Psyche from the Ancient Greek meaning spirit or soul. Logia meaning the study of.
The study of the spirit soul.
The way I see it, we are both physical beings, biological, human and we are spirit, non- physical.
Human spiritual beings, we need connection to be well in this world. To be encouraged to be ourselves.
I was trying to present an image to the world. The guy leaning on the muscle bike.
Over the years I’ve learned to let go of images that have outworn their use. Labels belong on jars, not people. What happens when we refuse to be defined by the roles we play, the identities assigned us by birth and culture?
Cultivating inner peace is more a process of unlearning. Gently. The smile of relief on the face of a friend as they realise they are loved. That the images crowding their mind are nothing but mental smoke and mirrors. Watching the eternal youth working it out. Witnesses to our shared humanity.
Today, we can step to the side a little and take a different view of the humans we meet.
A different view of ourselves maybe?
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey