Revealed: The scariest thing on the planet..

Ok, who’s scared of spiders?

It’s ok to admit it… most of us are. It’s deeply ingrained in our psyche.
I’m lucky to live in the UK. There are no indigenous dangerous spiders, but …..

Autumn is well and truly here, and (dread of dreads) so are

‘The Spider Hordes’..

encamped all over the garden, and emerging from dark lairs in the furthest recesses of our old Victorian house.

I’m quietly sweeping leaves in a shady corner of the garden, when my face brushes up against an unseen web and suddenly I’m haring about madly, brushing bits of half-digested fly from my clothes, and fixed with a creeping horror that the resident spider might now be enmeshed in my hair. (Eurgh!!)

Sentinels of mint and lavender pots are stationed by my back door (I’m told they keep spiders out. I’ll try anything.)

Some hope.

Coming down to the kitchen late at night, I turn the light on, and there it is…. the Arnold Schwarzenegger of arachnids – a hench, black, obscenely large house spider, flexing his hinged legs at me. My heart lurches. I feel sick.

 

Now, let’s face it….I am GARGANTUAN compared to this spider.
There is no sense or reason in my response, but hey! Who’s the one doing a fairly good impersonation of a banshee? (Hint: Not the one with eight legs).

Decades of superstition, horror movies and cultural repulsion underpin my instinctive reactions.
Reason and years of education go out the window.
The Reptilian Brain runs amok.

The good news however is that I’m getting better at dealing with spiders.
I’ve got this nifty little bug catcher that they can’t see coming.
It traps even the biggest spiders and releases them safely into the (neighbour’s!) garden.

I no longer abandon an entire room for weeks (as I once did) just because a spider takes up lodging. (and without paying rent!)

I’m braver not because I’ve had therapy for arachnophobia, (helpful as that can be), but because I’ve forced myself to observe them and their habits. I’ve realised that they’re actually quite helpful (getting rid of flies etc), and that however much my stomach turns when I see them, they really won’t harm me.

I’ve got to know them. The reality, not just the myths. I’m learning to live with them, and not give in to the stereotype. I’ve realised that fear often gives way in the face of knowledge.

(And of course I also have the nifty bug catcher!)

Ok, but this is a blog about introverts – so what have spiders and Introverts in common?

Well, quite a bit it seems.
We (like spiders) like to disappear off regularly to our hidey-holes. We don’t tend to hang about in gangs (I’m not sure what a ‘gang’ of spiders would look like, but I don’t think it would be pretty). Of course we don’t usually eat flies or possess eight legs, but analogies can only go so far ….

But, like spiders, there are preconceptions around Introverts out there too, making us seem ‘dangerous’.

You don’t have to look very far to find them either.

Ever noticed how often media reporting of some terrible crime cite the perpetrator as a ‘loner’? Someone who ‘kept to him (or her) self’, ‘quiet’ ‘withdrawn’.

“It’s always the quiet ones …..”.

You get the picture..

The (erroneous) reasoning goes something like this…

Serial killers = loners, keep themselves to themselves, withdrawn
Introverts = (As above)

Ergo – all serial killers are introverts, therefore all introverts must be …. you got it!

Serial killers in training.

it’s simplistic reasoning sure, but it’s simplistic logic that breeds prejudice.

It’s faulty logic for so many reasons.
Not all killers are introverted anyway.  Some are, some aren’t. There is no correlation between personality preference on the MBTI scale and a tendency to kill.

The type of withdrawal exhibited by some who have committed atrocities is often a symptom of paranoia and deep-seated mental health problems … very different from the introvert’s love of and preference for quiet spaces to think and incubate ideas. Superficially, They may look similar but the roots are very different.

Introvert or ‘thinker’ stereotyping goes way back too. Enter Shakespeare’s ‘Julius Caesar’. The conspirator Cassius is ‘a dangerous man’ because ‘he thinks too much’?

It seems to many of us that those who opt out of thinking are generally far more dangerous for our civilisation than those who question, analyse and research honestly.

Sadly, history throughout the ages testifies to the fear, suspicion and paranoia that ‘thinkers’ can generate around ideologies that feed on ignorance and prejudice.

Such stereotyping needs to be countered wherever we find it. We need to reclaim the term ‘introvert’ as simply (and only) a personality preference, not a pathology.
We have to strip it of its darker undertones.

I might return to this in a future post…. in more detail, and more seriously, but for now … I’d love to hear your thoughts or stories.
What kind of introvert stereotyping makes your hackles rise? Do you find it ‘dangerous’ or just mildly irritating?
How do YOU challenge it? Share your thoughts in the Comments!

Meanwhile, If you’re stuck for an idea for the Halloween fancy dress party this year….(you’ve done all the ghosts and ghouls and zombies and vampires…)

This year, why not go as the scariest thing on the planet…

 

The introvert!

 

‘Til next time,

 

Lynne x

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The Magic Behind Creativity  …. and Why it Needs Protecting!

As a child, I was a prodigious daydreamer…. a  GOLD MEDAL WINNING daydreamer!

This often got me into trouble. Resulting embarrassing stories  became part of our family folklore.

…. Like the time (aged 6) that I walked out of my brand new sneakers on the beach (and never went back for them) because I was watching the sun setting over the sea (And could do that better barefoot?!)

…. Or the time (aged 20) when I took the bus back home from shopping in town because I had ‘forgotten’ I had a car!

‘Dolly Daydream’ was a common pseudonym. Not one I liked.

To me though, daydreaming was never a waste of time…..

Wherever I was, however tedious or boring, (dentists waiting rooms, visits to great aunts) I had the patience of a saint!  – I could escape somewhere more exciting in my head, incubate ideas, imagine other lives and outcomes.
I was never bored. Like Alice, I could bolt down my daydream tunnel in pursuit of countless white rabbits whenever I wanted.

As a child, that daydreaming often led to creative ideas too.
Lots of story-writing and poetry (in varying degrees of merit and awfulness).
On long car journeys I was never one of the “Are we nearly there?” brigade. I often preferred the journey to the getting there.
I could think, uninterrupted, let my mind wander wherever it wanted to.

The upshot was often an urgent shout-out to stop at a petrol station an hour into the journey to buy a notepad and pen because I had ‘a story coming’.
Those stories were always better than the ones I had to write during timetabled school ‘Composition’ lessons.

 

However this tendency was rarely seen as positive by those around me.
It was held to be a waste of time,
a childish preoccupation,
a reason to be teased, an eccentric (though endearing) habit I ought to be schooled out of;  dragged kicking and screaming into the harsh glare of ‘The Real World’.

Naturally, I got to feel embarrassed about daydreaming.
And yes, at times my daydreaming did leave gaping plot holes in the everyday drama going on around me, but the story in my head always seemed so much more engaging!

So, as I grew up, I tried to squeeze myself into an acceptable ‘Practical Persona’.

I began to avoid situations where I might daydream. I tried very hard not to be seen to be ‘wasting time’.

I learned how to be productive.
I learned to quash the urge to daydream.
The 9-5 grind,  bringing up children and the maintenance of everyday life tend to drive it out anyway. However….

 

I also stopped up the well of creativity that was my birthright.

Recently I came across this (from Mary Oliver, courtesy of the wonderful Brainpickings site):

‘The most regretful people on earth are those who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave it neither power nor time.’   

That stopped me in my tracks..

No. ‘Stopped me in my tracks’  isn’t really how it felt … more like:

SOMEONE JUST WALKED OVER MY GRAVE.

The message is clear :

“Take your creative side seriously. Give it your time, give it nurture! Don’t dismiss its’ callings like a child you haven’t got time to play with because you need to do the ironing.
It won’t whisper to you forever. Eventually…

Time. Runs. Out.”

Sobering, isn’t it?

Does it sometimes feel in life as if you’re pulled in opposing directions?  ….

Towards Duty, Tasks, Responsibilities;  the ‘world out there’ …. and a creative pull that feels playful, (sometimes irresponsible), joyous and free, but demands paying attention to the ‘world in here’. (Where we introverts tend mostly to live).

Can you guess which side normally wins?

Yup… the duty, tasks, responsibility, ‘world-out-there’ one!

Because its’ demands are RED HOT!  Ignore them and the tax man is at your door, the children go hungry, the rent isn’t paid.

Ignore the ‘world-in-here’, and no one dies.

 

Except maybe you, or your soul , a little more each day.

 

We see time as a commodity, a resource to be well used.
We say we’re ‘killing’ time when we’re not being purposeful, as if the point of all time given to us, (indeed of all existence) is PRODUCTIVITY (measurable productivity).

We were born to be productive surely, to be purposeful … intentional.
To do works of relevance and note.
We can hardly argue with that can we?

Not only are we born to be productive , but our merit seems to depend on HOW productive we are. (Or seen to be, and in a short timespan too)

Being SEEN to be busy signals value and significance.

We march unthinkingly to the tune of the Productivity Police.

Hold on though ….

Maybe we weren’t created to be PRODUCTIVE, maybe we were born to be CREATIVE.

A factory assembly line can be productive …. but it doesn’t deliver the Mona Lisa!

Maybe we need to tweak the concept of ‘valued output’ in our lives.

My ‘output’ can’t be measured in the same way as that of my wrist watch.
Never missing a beat.  My watch is designed for one purpose and one purpose only.    To tell the time. It’s a machine.

But we are not machines, we are living organisms.
Our “purposes” are many and complex.
Unlike machines, We don’t run regularly to the same pace.
We follow unseen inner rhythms.
An efficient machine wouldn’t be designed for a quarter of its working life to be on ‘re-charge’ as we are when we’re sleeping!
That’s inefficient. It’d be scrapped.

 

Quite apart from the sleep we need, research suggests that we are only fully ABLE  to focus productively for around 90 minutes before we need more down time.

And this ‘slack time’  is not a luxury bolt-on that we should be able to do without. Neither is it ‘recharge/recovery’ time.  It’s ESSENTIAL if we are to be fully productive, fully creative. It seems as if that is when our brain is able to process the input. It does this when we’re asleep … and (more interestingly) when we’re ‘idling’.

(If you’re keen on the research, look up Kleitman’s studies on sleep, ultradian rhythms and the basic rest-activity cycle)

No rest, no productivity (or creativity).   Simples.

 

The problem is that we tend to regard our need for rest and sleep as a necessary evil.
We forget that we are organisms, not machines.
We confuse productivity and creativity.

We’re developing hothouse lives, without deep roots.

We’re euthanising creativity!

 

And who do we hurt most if we shame out daydreaming, quiet reflection, pottering and ‘time wasting’?

Introverts (because it’s our life-blood!) – and introverted creatives in particular.

There’s been a lot of interest recently into what specific environments and behaviours FEED  creativity.  And what’s coming out of that research is really exciting.

Again, if you get fired up by research, here’s a sample of current goodies to dip into:

Baird & Schooler: ‘Inspired by Distraction: Mind Wandering Facilitates Creative Incubation’ in Psychological Science.
‘Imagine: How Creativity Works’ (Joseph Lehrer)
‘Wired to Create: Unraveling the Mysteries of the Creative Mind’ (Kaufman & Gregoire).

It seems that we’re discovering that creative thinking is generated by:

‘Idling.’    ….   or mental ‘pottering’ whilst we’re engaged in a task that doesn’t require too much effort or concentration, (like going for a walk or taking a shower.)  It seems this non-specific, non-analytical focus is what helps us to process information, think outside the box, play with creative alternatives within a non-pressured environment.

‘Solitude’ –  to prime the creative pump requires occasionally shutting out the world!    It involves being solitary, alone. In their recent work ‘Wired to Create’, authors Kaufman and Gregoire cite ‘solitude’ and ‘daydreaming’ among the ten defining attributes of highly creative people.

‘Rhythm Dance’ –  We need to work within our natural rhythms of rest and activity. To prime Creativity, what’s needed is a rhythm dance of intense focus, followed by restful incubation (daydreaming). Focus  … daydream …. Focus …. incubate.

 

Creative work  (it turns out) grows best from a bedrock of quiet, non-focused contemplation.

As creative introverts it seems we NEED to ‘waste’ time. This can’t happen when we’re in the arena.

We need to protect slack time, “wasted” time. That’s where we  ‘grow’ ourselves, and every dream, idea, theory or work of art flows from this.

 

It’s when I’m pottering, idling along, walking the dog, taking a bath, peeling potatoes that the creative whisper comes.

Or maybe I’ve just got quiet enough to hear it.

 

So let’s stand in the gap and protect “wasted” time. Schedule it into our diaries and give it as much importance as committee meetings and doctors appointments.

 

Don’t kill your creativity on the busy altar of Productivity.

Learn to lay out the quiet ‘Welcome’ mat instead.

‘For some have thereby entertained angels unawares’

 

Don’t know about you, but I’d be happy for a few angels to stop by every now and then….

 

‘Til next time

Blessings

Lynne  🙂 x

When Breaking Rules is good for the soul …. 

Are you feeling discouraged (adrift even) at the start of 2017? 

For many, the world may feel a little less safe, a lot more unpredictable, uncharted even, as we navigate into this new year.

diy all things quiet

At the start of 2016 I posted ‘On the Road Not Taken’, where I looked at the regrets we might feel for the choices we didn’t make in 2015. It seemed to resonant with many of you. 

I still feel it’s relevant. 

At first I thought that I might just repost it. (I know, ‘bit lazy’!)

But then along came Brian Gresko’s article ‘In Defense of Small, Quiet Accomplishments’ on the Quiet Rev website. I read it and my heart sang! 

Please, quiet people, make yourselves a hot drink, find a cosy corner and read it. It’s warm, human, wise – life as we know it. 

And it really made me think.

It made me think about where we get our validation as introverts.

It made me realise that SOME RULES ARE THERE TO BE BROKEN! 

Here’s why … 

Brian writes about those moments of self doubt that assail us (particularly at the consumer high points of Christmas and New Year) – those insidious inner voices that whisper to us that

We’re ‘not enough’ …

We’re ‘no great shakes’ … 

That we didn’t do anything of real significance in 2016 … 

That we don’t  match up to the shimmering icons of cultural success that trumpet everywhere from social media outlets.

He tells of how those messages (if we let them in) can bring us down, make us doubt ourselves, sap our confidence, when we’d previously been content living a life of serene and quiet triumphs. 

Marching to our own particular drum.

I felt for Brian, as he told of his heroic trek to the Mall one bitter morning, alongside a cast of thousands,  trying to get THE Christmas gift of the year for his son. (Echoes of ‘Jingle All The Way’ anyone?) 

When my children were young we were living on a church pastor’s salary. 

A little had to go a long way. 

I still remember our ‘Hunt for Leonardo’ (hero turtles first time round anyone?) and the hours I spent trekking the stores, (pre-Internet), fearing that I would have failed as a parent  if I couldn’t get the wretched little green amphibian for my son!  

A lovely friend managed to track one down from the States.  It was 20x  bigger than the ones in our stores, but at least it was a hero turtle.  

And, as in Brian’s story, our son was just as thrilled with the many humbler gifts he received. leonardo-1

(We still have Leonardo by the way!) 

But the real question remains …

How do we defend ourselves against the temptations to compare and feel demoralised? How do we get back to feeling good about the counter-cultural way we do life as introverts? 

Brian’s article resonated with me, because I know I’ve felt like that, but it also made me think about the times when I’ve managed to shut the door on those destructive voices, and found my composure again. It made me stop and think about how I got back to my happy place again. 

So, here’s a story for you …. it’s the story of ‘My Flat pack Furniture Disaster’. 

Believe me, it’s relevant!  (and more than a little embarrassing). 

I’d just moved to London for my first job after uni. 

First flat, first pay cheque, first flat-mate, and now : first furniture (Flat packed.  Cheap). 

My flat-mate and I were trying to be two independent career women not in need of ‘a man with DIY skills’. 

(Actually, we didn’t need a man – a fairly knowledgeable Labrador would have been more use than we were!) 

dog

We laid out both sets of flat pack furniture, instructions and screwdrivers and set to work. Everything seemed to be going well. Some of the wooden pieces needed extra brute force to fix together, but we put the difficulty down to being weak and feeble women! 

Wrong on so many levels! 

When we finally looked up amidst the forest of wooden pieces at the half-assembled bookcase and chair, it was obvious something was wrong. Our high-backed chair was decidedly lopsided and wouldn’t stand level. 

We got back to the drawing board. 

And there it was!  Plain as day. We had confused a flat pack piece that should have been part of our bookcase for one that was part of the chair (in our defence, they were quite similar!). 

It was such an effort to fit the piece in, not because we were weak women, but because THE PIECE DIDN’T BELONG THERE ANYWAY! 

To put this woeful tale in context: all furniture is not the same. 

Chairs and bookcases are not put together the same way. 

All furniture doesn’t serve the same purpose.  

It’s the same with people. 

Are you judging yourself as faulty and lopsided against the wrong set of instructions? Someone else’s instruction manual! 

cat-diy

Studies show that introverts are motivated very differently to extroverts. Broadly speaking, extroverts work from extrinsic motivation (an inbuilt desire to seek external, visible indicators of success). Introverts are motivated more by intrinsic motivators (the acquisition of knowledge, the pursuit of a personal goal). Nothing right or wrong with either. Just different. 

So, believe me when I say there are some ‘rules’ worth breaking, worth ignoring. 

silly-sign

These aren’t the rules laid down in the statute books or in the 10 Commandments. (Best to keep these!).

No, these are rules that are laid down in no legal document, but can be just as binding on our behaviours and attitudes. 

They are cultural and social ‘norms’ that we (often) unquestioningly accept, taking them in like the air we breathe, feeling governed (and evaluated) by them, though we may never have signed up to them!  

Unspoken rules like ‘being successful means having visible status : the big salary/house/car/following’ , etc. 

As quiet people, we really need to step out from under their tyranny. 

We need to stop feeling a compulsion to follow these rules, even if others do. 

If we haven’t signed up to them, 

If our hearts don’t see their value, 

If it’s not in our being to chase after them … then why should we feel judged and evaluated by them? 

Brian concludes that (when he manages to silence these ‘should’ voices) he’s actually pretty happy with his life and achievements… So how can we silence the voices…..? 

Well, this is what helps me. These are my 4 keys ( .. Allen keys if you like!) to getting my contentment back… They’re simple, but simple is often the best (and most overlooked) way. And they work.

  1. Recognise your own personal values.   What really matters to you.  Maybe you’re not the CEO of a big company by the time you’re 40 – but was that ever really important to you? Was that ever your goal, your instruction manual, or is its somebody else’s idea of success, that you’re allowing to judge you. Maybe your goal was more relational (but no less challenging) – to be the best dad or mum you could be, to develop your children, to work for justice in your community, to discover and live happily with who you really are. We choose goals that fit our values, our personalities and abilities, our priorities. My goals may not be yours. So let go of that judgment…. You haven’t won, but you may never have meant to enter that particular race. 
  2. Stop comparing!   You’re on your own journey. All that really matters is how you’re doing with that. Your map (and destination) are your own. Those runners who turn to look at others as they run, lose their momentum. Keep focused on where you’re going. 
  3. Have a social media fast.   Honestly!  What’s out there on social media isn’t real life. It’s everyone’s shop window, where we put our shiniest, best goods on display. You won’t often see folk parading their second-best, their failures, struggles or self-doubts. So don’t compare. It’s not real. It’s photo shopped life. 
  4. Practise Gratitude.  The sacrifice of gratitude delivers the simple gift of contentment. Not in a twee, Pollyanna-ish way… But when we give way to those siren voices of insecurity, envy and shame, we really do lose sight of all the treasures we already have. We may even lose them because we fail to recognise or cultivate them. A bit like Aesop’s dog with the bone. 

running-butt

So, thank you Brian for the article. Thank you for reminding us that ‘a quiet life can be its own reward’.    That really is something worth signing up for. 

‘Til next time

Blessings

Lynne x

‘The Stories that Shape us’

It’s nearly Christmas! Time for mulled wine, mince pies, twinkling lights and time to retell the greatest story ever told – the coming of the child who is King and Lord of all. 

As a child, I loved stories. I still do.best

‘Story’ was the most exciting word ever – more than toys (or Christmas) or sweets! 

I loved new stories, especially stories about overcoming incredible odds. (‘The Silver Sword’. ‘The Incredible Journey’). 

And I loved to make up and write my own stories too. (They weren’t so incredible!)

I’m babysitting. My granddaughter brings me a pile of books,  asks me to read a bedtime story. The conversation goes like this: 

‘Me: ‘This one?’ (Hopefully)

Granddaughter: ‘No, that’s not the right one!’ (Tosses book aside)

Me: ‘Is this the right one?’ (More hopefully)

Granddaughter: (Thinking) ‘Mmmm….No!’ (Clearly not Granny!)

Me: ‘How about this one. Is this the right story?’ (Third time lucky??)

Granddaughter: ‘Yes! That’s my right story!’ (Relief!)

There is a ‘right story’ about each of us….

The stories we hear about ourselves when young, in some sense define us. They may inform who we then become. If these stories major on problems and weaknesses, (without the story arc that ends with overcoming) … then ‘our story’ can become a damaging road map. Sometimes the stories we inherit are just plain wrong, and we need to stop living from them, and learn a new story.   A redemption story. 

all things quiet

So, I’m going to say a bit about my story…. The one I inherited, and how I had to re-write it. 

My story starts here … 

Most of my life I’ve believed there was something intrinsically wrong with me. 

Not physically – but something wrong in my brain, some ‘glitch’ that meant I took things in too slowly. Took too long to learn and process things. I believed I had a ‘stupid gene’. 

There’s a reason I believed this… 

When I was eight years old, I was pulled out of my school class to be assessed by the first of three child psychologists. Up until this point I had been fairly happy at school. 

I was quiet, a bit of a daydreamer, but I had friends and I liked sitting with them up against the playground fence and making up stories. I was doing ok (or so I thought).

lynne-at-school-photo

Then they rolled in the first child psychologist.  

I remember that he wore a dark suit, and looked a bit like a crow. I felt scared. 

He asked me the difference between 18 and 30. 

I told him that they were two different numbers (astonished that he didn’t seem to know!). It didn’t go well from there….

My parents were called in, told I ‘wouldn’t amount to much’ and that the school would be moving me to the ‘remedial stream’. (It was called something more brutal back then). 

They moved me the very next day. I stopped talking, curling back in on myself. Suddenly, the world seemed a frightening place, where I had no voice, no control, except to remain silent. So I did. 

I was saved only by the fact that my parents refused to believe what they were told without a second opinion, so they engaged two further sets of psychologists – nice, friendly ones this time.  

I remember going  to be assessed at an old red-bricked Georgian house, windows festooned with copper-red Virginia Creeper,  manfully trying to grow through the cracks in the brickwork. 

I liked this psychologist. He pretended to sharpen his finger in the rotary pencil sharpener on his desk. I asked whether the Virginia Creeper was really a triffid.  (I’d heard ‘The Day of the Triffids’ on the car radio). 

We did puzzles and picture recognition cards and he eventually reported back that there was nothing wrong with me,  that the school were doing me incalculable harm, and that I should be withdrawn immediately, and sent somewhere smaller and quieter where there would be

… Less pressure to perform. 

… Less competition to be heard.

I was enrolled in a small village school, and so began the long journey back to confidence, hugely helped by the quieter, smaller environment and some focused attention. I began to succeed, more than succeed. I did very well. My confidence grew, and I found out, when the pressure was off, that I loved to learn. 

However, what never left me, all the way through high school and university, and on to work, was that gnawing, malignant fear, that one day, that as-yet-undiagnosed flaw would re-emerge, and I’d be exposed as a fraud. 

I believed that I had to work harder than everyone else, not to do well, but just to keep up. 

If I slacked off,  I’d be back there in remedial, where no one could hear me scream. 

Any love of learning was almost sucked dry by performance anxiety and drivenness. 

I didn’t know this poisonous cocktail of feelings had a name. It was years before I heard of Imposter Syndrome. I assumed everyone else felt as confident as they seemed. Shame meant I kept my feelings hidden. 

My confusion and lack of confidence around my own ability meant that despite gaining a 1st class Honours degree, and even being offered an Oxbridge scholarship, I  walked away from many opportunities I might have had, because my ‘story’ told me they weren’t for me.

I’d always wanted a family, so when my children came along, I threw myself happily into a world filled with dressing up boxes and kiddies’ stage plays, trips to the library and museums, morning swim times and kitchen tables covered with craft glue and tissue paper. It was my safe place, as well as theirs. 

 When my quiet daughter started school, my safe haven fell apart. 

Almost from the start, I was having to defend her right to be quiet and still be ‘OK’.

I was constantly having to reframe stories of her as ‘withdrawn’ and ‘uncommunicative’ in terms of her need to have quiet, uninterrupted thinking time; space for her imagination to work amidst the hubbub of the classroom. 

Almost from the start, marched in the recommendations for assessment: Maybe she had hearing problems? Maybe she suffered from petit mal or some form of autism? 

I fielded them all, inwardly screaming. 

I knew my child. 

Outside of school, she could be deliciously quirky and funny, sensitive and perceptive.   Inside school, these ‘queries’ made her uncertain of herself.

I found myself looking backwards into a mirror.

I knew I was losing perspective. Plunging into a dark, familiar place. 

I found a good counsellor to talk to, who taught me that my fears were ‘phantoms’ from my own past, that my daughter was NOT me, she was her own person and that in any case she had me and others to lead, guide and protect her, should she need that. I had to deal with my anxiety so that I didn’t contaminate her with it. 

That, of course, was just the beginning.  My daughter (and my other children) have grown up to be strong, loving and (it seems to me) fearless and assured adults. 

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What my daughter and I have in common is that we are both introverts. 

Not always quiet, or necessarily shy. Certainly not anti-social.  But often observing life from the sidelines first before we plunge in. 

I was no stranger to introversion. I’d done Myers Briggs. I  thought I knew all there was to know about introversion and its ramifications. But I was wrong. 

Recent findings in neuroscience research, cited in Marti Olsen Laney’s ‘The Introvert Advantage’  reveal that the differences between introverts and extroverts are not simply at the behavioural level. 

They are hard wired into our brain circuitry.  

Introverts ‘need to reach back into long term memory to retrieve information. This requires reflection time without pressure’, because we use a different neurotransmitter to extroverts (acetylcholine rather than dopamine) and this requires a longer neural pathway. Introverts then (particularly right-brained introverts) can seem, on first acquaintance, slow.   Stupid even. 

I know now that as an introvert I am hard wired to need time to process information. That and the tendency to shut down when overstimulated or in noisy environments, daydreaming and being often content to sit back and listen provided the perfect storm of symptoms that set the wheels in motion for a psychological assessment that pathologised my introversion. 

I’ve made peace with myself now. There is no undiagnosed fatal flaw. 

No longer will I let others’ stories of me define who I am, however ‘qualified’ they may be.   I’ve learnt (like my granddaughter) to choose the ‘right’ story…. My story. 

And so can you. 

We hold the rights to the screenplay of our own lives, and no one else can write that script. 

we-hold-the-rights-to-the-screenplay-of-our-own-lives-and-one-else-can-write-that-script

Time to start re-writing!

Christmas blessings,

Lynne X

8 keys to getting noticed … (without the song and dance routine) 

All things quiet

I was on my second cup of breakfast tea. My husband (who was scouring the paper for teaching vacancies), looked up and sighed, 

‘”Just look at this!”   He poked the ad. I read it. 

‘Wanted:  Energetic, dynamic, enterprising team player required for this vibrant forward-looking Department’.

He groaned. “Can’t I just be good at what I do without having to do this eternal song and dance routine?”

I felt his pain. Most of the appointments echoed the same sentiments.

My husband, you see, is also an introvert. He wouldn’t describe himself as ‘energetic, dynamic or vibrant’. He just gets the job done. Quietly. 

Eventually he gave up trying to balance education and entertainment and left teaching for the quieter fields of IT, where he didn’t have to play Fred Astaire.

What he came up against that day was not just our cultural bias towards extroversion but …

(more worryingly) …

its’ tendency to equate outward displays of exuberance for that inner pilot light of fervour that drives commitment, competence and leadership.

Outward enthusiasm might indicate inner commitment, but it might just be surface dressing and natural excitement. A calm, quiet exterior might mask a burning passion for something. We can’t judge by externals. 

All too often, however, we ARE judged in this way.

In other words:     Exuberance=good, quiet=bad.   (Or maybe just ‘not worthy of attention’)

Look carefully, and you’ll see this everywhere.

Richard, a quiet 10 year old boy sits at his desk in the middle of a busy primary classroom. 

“Can I have someone to help with the nature pond this afternoon?” asks his teacher. Richard is keen to help. He has a real interest in the natural world and spends time during the weekends helping his dad with conservation projects. 

His arm shoots up, his eyes shine, but he doesn’t shout out. 

He is a polite lad, he knows you shouldn’t shout out in class. 

But all around him classmates bounce off their seats, calling out, “Me, me…pick me, miss!” 

Richard sits quietly, as he knows you are meant to, and soon he is invisible among the tsunami of waving, jumping children. 

“Go on then Amber, you go!” announces the teacher. Glad to be shot of the biggest wriggler in the class. Amber too is delighted… she is missing Maths. 

Richard’s arm comes down slowly, and he lowers his head so that no one can see the hurt. 

You can bet that the lesson he learnt that day was that to be quiet is to be overlooked; that those who shout the loudest get all the attention. 

In other words, he learnt that his quiet nature often worked against him in getting what he wanted. 

This is why introverts often turn themselves inside out trying to play extrovert. 

This is why they fail to understand and develop their natural strengths. 

This is how they learn shame. 

And it has to change. 

Put simply, if I’m to prove I’m keen, if I’m to stand out….I’d better be super-mega-enthusiastic and noisy. I’d better flag-wave, cheer-lead and demonstrate a lot of forced hype. Whether I’m feeling it or not.

Whether that’s the way I naturally show enthusiasm or not. 

And if I don’t dance the dance, well then…I’m a cold fish, lacking zeal and probably commitment. Not to be trusted.

Shakespeare’s ‘King Lear’ is, without question, Shakespeare’s darkest, bleakest depiction of human nature. It’s visceral, gut-wrenching stuff. At its’ centre is Lear himself, a flawed and narcissistic character of vast proportions whose downfall is equally colossal.

The play opens with Lear’s fateful ‘trial of loyalty’ to each of his three daughters. A one-off test (overlooking a lifetime’s knowledge of his children) to determine who loves him the most and who will subsequently win his inheritance and favour. And the test? 

It’s for each daughter to prove her love and commitment in displays of passionate and extravagant language.  

If you know the story, you’ll know that the two eldest daughters, Goneril and Regan,  rise to the challenge and provide Lear with glowing, if unrealistic, descriptions of their love. Cordelia, the youngest, who is actually Lear’s favourite, cannot play the game. She is unable (and unwilling) to ‘heave my heart into my mouth’, as she puts it. She speaks the truth, that she loves her father as a daughter should, ‘no more, no less’. For this, her share of the inheritance is divided between her sisters and she is banished. 

Now Goneril and Regan are toxic to the core. Their declarations of love are born of flattery and manipulation and in no way represent spontaneous, innocent extrovert enthusiasm. Cordelia, likewise, isn’t the simple introvert victim. There is a certain stubbornness and pride in her truth-telling to take into account.  (Not unheard of in introverts!) 

But it’s Lear’s reaction that merits attention. Because he is the one who holds the cards. He is emblematic of all gatekeepers. And he (like Richard’s teacher) listens to those who shout the loudest. 

Somehow, without engaging in flattery, manipulation, pushy-ness or going against our own natures as introverts, we have to find a way to be heard above the crowd in what matters to us.

So why is it so hard for us to convince others of our excitement or dedication? 

It’s hard because as introverts we are naturally more reserved. 

We also tend to use words sparingly. We UNDERSTATE rather than overstate.. 

In Introspeak, “I’m feeling a little chilly” might just mean “I’m suffering from hypothermia and will shortly keel over and die”.

(Be mindful of this with your introvert friends and family!)

all-things-quiet

Like most introverts, I try to be very ACCURATE in what I say. 

When I’m really excited about something, you’ll know about it, but I’m not easily enthused. Nothing wrong with that. I just can’t manufacture enthusiasm if I don’t feel it. 

If I give praise for something, I really do mean it. If I don’t say anything, it’s likely I’m not overly wowed. I don’t throw my compliments about like confetti. 

Otherwise they have no meaning. 

That said, accepting praise can be just as problematic for introverts. We need to scan compliments to check first that they are a) genuine and b) merited before we can really receive them, and our low-key responses can sometimes throw cold water on extroverts’ genuine attempts to express gratitude! That said, I’m learning to bend a little …to give more positive strokes, because I now know that these things are an extroverts’ lifeblood. This can sometimes  feel uncomfortable, like flattery, or emotional manipulation (can’t I just say once that I appreciate them for doing the washing-up? Don’t they believe me?) but I’ve had to learn that if I don’t feed the extroverts I love regularly with praise, they end up emotionally starved. They may end up feeling I don’t care about them. I don’t want them to feel that way, because they are incredibly important to me. I’m still a work in progress, as they are.

The problem we have as quiet people then is that it can be difficult persuading people that we are really into something, or committed to something, or want something (like a new job opportunity or promotion), NOT because we’re necessarily shy or lacking in confidence, but because (like Cordelia) we don’t see the need/ can’t bring ourselves to do the required hype.  It feels insincere, fabricated. False.  Worse, it can feel like the worst primary school “Look at me, I’m so keen!” public display competition. I might care a great deal, but resent simple assertions of my interest and commitment not being enough. 

It can feel to quiet people as if we’re caught in a lose-lose trap – be false to ourselves or seem indifferent to others. It’s not a happy choice! 

So, how do we make sure our passions are heard, (particularly to gatekeepers), without denying our personalities? 

We make sure our every word counts!  So … 

8 Keys to Being Heard:

  • Pack your declarations of interest/commitment etc full of DETAIL, like cherries in a cake. Make sure every word you utter (or write) counts and reveals your introvert strengths – research, analysis, strategic and detailed forward thinking and planning. You’re good at this. You know exactly what you could add to any organisation, and where the development niches are. Think Content. Not Delivery. Quality not quantity. Show, not tell is the way forward.
  • Express yourself in WRITING. Get a written statement of interest in before you have to do the talking. Again, pack with detail. Take your time thinking and planning exactly what you want to say. Show you’ve done your homework. That communicates interest more than anything.
  • TARGET  the right people. Sometimes you might just be in the wrong place. You need managers and others who will see beyond a slick 20 minute presentation. Align yourself with kindred spirits in an environment where you will be heard and valued. Sometimes that takes the courage to abandon ship and move on.
  • BELIEVE in yourself and your unique strengths. Get to know and develop them. Don’t compare, but don’t compromise either.
  • WORK WITH your natural strengths. You may be a good sympathetic listener, ideally placed to hear what’s not working so well in an organisation and to be one step ahead in identifying and coming up with a plan you can share to make things work better. That’s contributing to team working and organisation The Introvert Way. 
  • PICK THE RIGHT TIME! Usually when you can be alone with ‘the person who needs to hear you’. When you can guarantee their undivided attention. Approach them or email and ask for a 1-1 meeting. Don’t fight to be heard in the arena (like Richard in the classroom). Decide what you want and plan ahead. Stick to your plan.
  • Don’t be discouraged if you’re not heard first time. DON’T GIVE UP! Try a different tack, a different person, a different job. Believe you have value. Because you have. 
  • And finally, when it seems impossible to get the attention of gatekeepers… Don’t forget that the real power is in your hands to turn your zeal into action. Don’t give away that power to others. Just keep going! 

Enthusiasm  is fine, but it’s commitment that counts in the end. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. 

life-is-a-marathon all things quiet

Blessings as ever, 

Lynne x

Should it stay or should it go? ….. The Life Inventory

You can only carry so much

I haven’t posted on here for what seems like ages, and I’ve honestly missed that more than I can say.

But there’s a reason I haven’t been posting….

Over the last four months, you see, along with my family, I’ve been emptying, clearing and selling the family home I grew up in. The home that had been in the family for over half a century. 

It was part of my childhood and growing up. It was the house from which I got married, and which came to be special to my children too, as they rediscovered all the nooks, crannies and play places I had made dens and memories in when I was young.

I’ve learnt that there isn’t much that is harder than parting with your history and your memories. 

Every cupboard or drawer you open tells another story, another memory unfolds from within an item that you might have to relinquish.

What do you keep? What do you lose? How do you choose? 

It sometimes felt as if I was getting rid of myself. 

Pulling up my very roots.

Keepsakes, photographs, old books and belongings that used to speak of who I was … (maybe not now, but there’s an emotional attachment) and a sea of memories comes rushing in. 

It’s very hard. 

I didn’t know where to start. As a family, we researched the best way to do a house clearing. There’s the  William Morris take on ‘stuff’ … ‘Keep only what is beautiful or useful’.     Mmmm…. Deciding what is beautiful or useful turned out to be widely subjective!   Or there’s the mantra that says ‘keep it for six months, if you haven’t  used it, chuck it’.  Problematic. It might take me six months to find said item amongst the mountains of stuff! 

We decided to start doing a basic sorting, and set aside separate rooms for ‘keep’, ‘sell or donate’ and ‘get rid’. That was the easy bit, but I still felt as if I were drowning!

What grid do you use to help you decide what to keep and what to lose anyway?  (I LIKE grids. I like templates, and instructions, and safe, secure ‘how to’ methodologies, but found nothing that touched the real core of the issue).  No one, you see, seemed to take the emotional attachment bit into account. That’s the bit that makes it hard to let go. 

Then came the awful thought…would I fail to get rid of ANYTHING? Would I end up like one of those hoarders, buried beneath a sea of random stuff?  Eaten by Alsatians? (With apologies to Bridget Jones!) 

stuff

Horror of horrors! 

Have you ever noticed that some of the best ideas we get come to us in dreams, or maybe just in that dreamlike state between sleeping and waking? 

Well, I was rescued by a ‘dream’..I woke one morning with the words ‘IDENTITY’ and ‘LEGACY’ swimming in my head. (Normally, the only words swimming in my head on waking are ‘Get up!! You’ve overslept!).  Thank you Lord! I have a grid! I am one happy lady! 

So my grid began to click into place. I began to see that the things we need to keep, and to treasure from the past, are to do with IDENTITY… with who we are, and are becoming. They may be actual things, books, letters, a sewing machine, an old typewriter… They might be relationships that have been significant in helping to build who we are becoming. These things have become ‘family’.. They have become part of our DNA. 

 LEGACY is to do with what I keep to pass on as an inheritance. Not just clocks and cabinets, but personal history and narratives, a love of art or music, a thirst for knowledge and discovery. It’s about finding and identifying the baton so you can pass it on. 

So here are the questions I asked myself, to help me choose what to keep, and what to lose….IMG_2426

Is it still part of my/our ongoing life journey? 

Is it a reminder of those special people in my life and what they have built in me? 

Does it still fulfil a purpose? 

Does it speak of who I really am? 

Does it echo with my plans and dreams for the future or is it ‘dead wood’ from the past, pulling me back and making it difficult to grow steadfastly forward? 

THAT grid was helpful.

I’m not just talking about losing or keeping actual possessions either, I’m talking identities. In psychotherapy, we understand that the powerful image of the ‘house’ often stands for the self. Moreover, our ‘stuff’ (physical or otherwise) can house old and outworn, sometimes unhealthy identities, that NEED to be shed. 

….Like when we keep all the old punk albums we listened to with the scary ex. (Although we’ve always hated punk!) 

….Or we keep the books from that course our parents signed us up to, that we bunked off.

Why are we keeping that stuff? Because until we get rid of it, we’re tied to that identity, that failure. We haven’t let it go, got closure on it…and so we can’t move on. 

Those things are the barnacles on our shells that slow us down. 

Other ‘stuff’ might remind us of parts of ourselves that we need to pick up and run with again, interests and leanings that have lain dormant….      

WE NEED TO DO A HOUSE CLEARING!   DO WE STAY AS WE ARE, BURDENED WITH A LOAD OF ‘STUFF’ OR DO WE DO A LIFE INVENTORY?  

We have to be intentional about what we allow ‘in’ our lives, and what we decide has to ‘go’.  And the decision can only be ours to make. 

So why is it so hard? 

I think it’s hard because on the whole we’re creatures of habit, content to live with our own particular status quo, living in stasis, however cluttered, so long as life will allow. 

The problem is, Life usually doesn’t!   

Because we were not made for stasis, we were made for growth. 

And growth requires reflection, evaluation and making (often scary or brave) choices. Growth can be uncomfortable, even painful, because to be free to grasp hold of something new, you have to let go of the stuff you’re holding onto….otherwise your hands are already full. 

I love watching natural history programmes. Recently I was watching an episode where there was a close up, prolonged footage of a snake shedding its skin. I’d never really thought much about the process, but as I watched, I had one of those light bulb moments…

When the snake’s skin becomes too restrictive for further growth, the impetus for shedding is triggered. 

I don’t know what activates that process….without giving the snake human feelings, I guess he must feel pretty cramped and tight and uncomfortable, and certainly in the process of shedding, the snake becomes cranky, stops eating, and will likely go somewhere quiet and private….because it’s vulnerable at this point. 

But the point is, it cannot grow unless it sheds that skin, and it cannot get rid of the discomfort until it sheds either! No pain, no growth. A bit like giving birth. Pain is an indicator that something HAS to change. Pain is a precursor of birth, of change, of growth. Pain isn’t always something to avoid, to be afraid of.  

C.S.Lewis in ‘The Problem of Pain’ spoke of pain as ‘Gods megaphone’. It wakens us to action. It demands decisions, not avoidance.  

So, what are you going to do?    What needs to ‘go’ in your life, and what needs to be reclaimed?   

You can only carry so much luggage in life. So pack with care. 

Ask yourself these questions:  is this thing/relationship/ habit/lifestyle leading to growth, to health, to happiness – is it helping me on the journey I’m on, does it feed into my values and identity or is burdening me, pulling me back to the past, to old identities, mistakes and memories, and beckoning me along a sideline, not along the main track of my life? 

The biblical concept of ‘Leaving and Cleaving’ recognises this principle of letting go in order to grasp something new. You cannot build strong new attachments until you relinquish or lessen the pull and primacy of old ones, even good ones!   If not, you’ll be pulled in so many directions, master to everyone but yourself, and who you should be. 

Unfortunately (especially for introverts) our Western culture values (demands sometimes!) multiple involvements and commitments. It tells us (mistakenly) that we can have it all, keep it all, do it all – at no extra cost. 

So we need courage and self awareness to choose a quieter, more focused, less cluttered path. 

Self awareness to know what to keep and what to lose, and to shelve the guilt that comes with saying ‘no’ . . 

Courage because choosing to say NO, can (sadly) open the door to being judged as selfish or indifferent. 

Ironically, saying ‘no’ to some things simply means we can be MORE committed to the fewer things we choose to say ‘yes’ to! And depth, not breadth is introvert gold. 

You cannot keep everything in life, nor should you try. Keep only what passes from your hands to your heart. Let all else go.   

Til next time then, 

Blessings,

Lynne 

You cannot keep everything in life. Keep only what passes from your hands to your heart. Let all else go

‘On The Road Not Taken’

 

I’m sitting looking out of the window at my garden. Outside, it’s grey and blustery, but warm. Here in England it almost feels like Spring. Daffodil spears are pushing valiantly through the cold soil. Winter seems to have passed us by. But it’s still only early February, it could go either way….winter may still come roaring back.

 

The New Year too arrived with its promises of a new life, a chance for us to do things differently in 2016.

 

We resurrect resolutions, hopes and expectations…and maybe even some concrete plans, for the year ahead. Some of these, we’ll make inroads to achieving.

 

Others will remain in the ‘Back Room of Good Intention’.

 

Some will be abandoned after a few weeks (usually the ones to do with diet and exercise regimes!) By this stage into the year, I guess you’ll all know which category your resolutions fall into.

 

But there’s another side to the New Year, one that can cause us a measure of disquiet. It’s the flip side of resolutions and expectation…

 

…It’s the spectre of ‘what ifs’.

 

The symbol for January is after all, Janus, the Roman two-faced God, who faced forwards, but also faced backwards.

 

New Year can also be a time when we reflect on the year that’s just gone, and there, alongside all the good (and not so good) times, we might light upon ‘The Great Imponderables’ –

 

Those decisions we didn’t take,

The route we didn’t go down,

The opportunity we let go by,

The relationship we didn’t follow up on….

 

And there it is, hanging in the air…

 

What would have happened if …? Did I make the right decision?

 

Sometimes, that unanswerable question can throw us into a morass of self-doubt, recrimination and regret. Particularly if life currently isn’t a bed of roses, that imagined alternative future can seem like a lost chance, a better life thrown away…and of course we blame ourselves. Who else is there to blame!

 

This is not a happy place to be.

 

You might be thinking – What has all this to do with introverts finding our courage and our voices?

 

Well, potentially, a great deal!

 

You see, as introverts, we tend naturally to think long and hard about our decisions. We research the options, we listen to our intuition, our value systems, we weigh up the pros and cons. We may even tabulate them! We don’t easily share this process. It’s internal.

 

You might think that this makes us better, clearer decision makers. Well, sadly not necessarily. We may amass a huge arsenal of information to guide our decision…but it doesn’t always lead to a decision!

 

The introvert leaning is towards analysis, over-thinking and often perfectionism and its companion procrastination.

 

Not easy bed-fellows to decision making!

 

We are also by nature cautious and risk-averse.

Making decisions – important, life-changing ones – can be agonising. We want to get it right, but how will we really know what the right decision is when the options are not between good and bad, but better and best, or two seemingly ‘equal’ pathways? We can be racked with self-doubt and recrimination.

When both roads looks inviting, Which one to take_

 

We might be further paralysed by ‘black and white thinking’, leading us to believe that if there is a right path to take, then the alternative choice must be wrong and lead to all kinds of disastrous consequences! The result of this kind of polarised thinking is that we can find ourselves unable to make any kind of decision because the stakes are just too high. We go round and round in circles. We become frozen by indecision.

 

Anyone thinking of Hamlet here?   More to the point, anyone recognise themselves here too?

 

These tendencies we have as quiet people prove a potent cocktail, one that makes decision making difficult and extremely stressful. Often, we decide NOT to make a decision.

 

We forget that avoiding making a decision is (sorry to remind you!) making a decision! You just decided to pass on it, to keep things as they are…..that’s still a decision. And it’s a common introvert decision…..because we value security and safety, we often decide to stay with the status quo.

 

Some years ago, I found myself inexplicably listening to that siren voice of regret.

 

I say inexplicably because it focused on a decision I had taken MANY years before. It was a decision not to take an opportunity that was offered to me. It was a sparkling and rare prize that was totally unexpected and unsought. I felt honoured, but oddly not tempted to take it up. For years, I never thought about it again, then a change in career caused regret and doubt to raise their ugly heads.

 

Regret is not a comfortable feeling, but when it revolves around a decision you made years ago (and didn’t doubt at the time), it’s a pointless exercise too!

 

We can’t go back and change things.

 

Regret only erodes our belief in ourselves and our ability to make good choices in the future.

 

It causes us to live in the past, and miss the blessings (and opportunities) of the moment.

 

It steals our confidence. It takes away our clear, confident voice.

 

That’s not to say that we can’t learn from past decisions. Undoubtedly we can, but we need to forgive ourselves, let go of tormenting ourselves, turn our backs on believing that our future has been set in stone by past mistakes in order for us to be open to learn anything in the process.

 

Holding onto regret ties us to the past, holds us back and can prevent us from taking personal responsibility for our shining futures.

 

I don’t believe nowadays in giving regret any rent-space in my life. I am officially serving him his Eviction Notice! As of now. And so should you.

 

So, I’m sharing with you my own personal ‘Eviction Notice’.

 

You do not have to live with regret as a lodger in your life for one second more! Get rid of regret and you free yourself up to begin to enjoy what life has for you up ahead, without the fear of taking a wrong path. You can confidently explore and discover who you were really created to be, and begin to find and use your unique voice and message.

 

So remind yourself of these things:

 

* That a decision made by the person I once was, cannot be questioned by the ‘me I now am’. We rarely consciously make decisions that will harm us, so the ‘past me’ did the best she could with the tools and information she had at the time. The ‘present me’ cannot judge her.   I will choose to stop blaming myself.

 

* That life is not usually made up of good or bad decisions. The decisions we make and the reasons behind our choosing one option over another (to take up this career or that one, to choose this relationship over another) are complex. Regret tries to tell us that we have ‘missed out’. That the path we did not take was filled with sunshine and rainbows and fulfilment. That the reason our lives are NOT filled with all these goodies is precisely because we ‘took the wrong path’ ….but we are the executors of our own happiness and opportunities, whatever path we take. The path itself is not filled with sunshine, we carry that with us on the journey. It’s up to us.

 

* Beside my desk is a bookmark given to me years ago. It reminds me that He who created the universe knows the hairs on my head and sees every path that I take. He is not thrown by my ‘wrong turns’. They do not keep Him up at night as they do me. To Him, they are ‘small fry’. He can turn things to good again, just as the potter re-shaping spoiled clay.

 

And finally, a lesson from my satnav!

 

* I love it that when I take a wrong turn, or miss a turning, that my satnav doesn’t shout at me, or tell me that I’m stupid, but calmly instructs me to ‘turn around where possible’. Sometimes of course, it isn’t possible, and then she obligingly finds an alternative road, and we get there in the end. Often by the scenic route.

 

And sometimes life is like that. That we end up at our destination in the end, despite our wrong turns, led home by a different route. One we didn’t plan, and it maybe took a little longer, but we enjoyed the scenery and were brought home safely in the end.

 

So don’t allow regret to sabotage your peace and happiness this year. Serve him his eviction notice and then change the locks!

 

And take this old, but still powerful verse from Minnie Louise Haskins with you instead into the New Year –

 

‘And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year

“Give me a light, that I may tread safely into the unknown”

And he replied,

“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God

That shall be to you better than light, and safer than a known way”

IMG_2304

‘Til next time …

Blessings,

Lynne x