To Her Lost Lover
My name paved your streets of gold.
But like the city, we crumbled.
Our foundations, were shaky.
One fatal blow.
I can't look at the moon anymore
and not think of you.
And when I remember your smile,
your morning hair, your playfulness,
my heart still hurts. I can't help it.
You were my heroin, my drowning anchor.
White dog, country house, lighthouse living -
none of that will be ours anymore.
And now there's a new one on the scene.
A slightly longer-haired clone.
And so good luck to you.
The man in the moon
who could never sleep alone. Who dreamed
and screamed in the night if the bed was empty.
It doesn't matter which body you lie beside or
which face you look at, as long as the mirror cracks
from side to side
on the other
side of the room.
I loved you. And you loved me.
We hurt. We hurt.
And now in the wild fields of Africa, you breathe.
And sleep, and dream, of tennis and Bush and Blair.
And of one whose dark hair and eyes torment you still.
Of that I'm sure. But are they mine or yours?
I look to the sky and you're not there anymore.
All that connects us now is
Silence and the space between.
Suspended, withdrawn,
my arms are not long enough to reach you.
Daylight beckons.
And I must go.
copyright Alix Hearn. 10/8/08
Thursday, 12 March 2009
The art of editing
I'm quite fascinated by the things we don't say in conversation, or when we write. What am I omitting from this blog, what are others, what are the things that we don't share with each other. In a way, what we edit says more about us sometimes than what we actually choose to air. This is also true in the therapy room - what is not said, the unsaid, what the client brings forth and what they hide. No wonder the power dynamics are so interesting in the therapy room...
So, what are the things I don't share? I've always believed I'm one of those people that wears their heart (and their neuroses) on their sleeve. But I also believe I hide my light under a bushel, I'm not aggressive in showing off my talents and saying look at me! Since being a young child I always wanted to write, then I wanted to be a journalist, then an actress. Alongside these aspirations was a deep belief I also wanted to help people, to heal people, that I could listen and absorb and not judge their darkest thoughts and secrets, that I wanted to be privy to their stories.
Over the years, I have doubted myself as a creative being. I'm pretty sure there is a link between the suppression of creativity and ensuing depression. So even though I'm slowly beginning to write for the sheer pleasure of writing I still can't share with others (particularly those who work in the arts / creative worlds) that I am creative, I long to write and have found the facilitation of other people's creativity over the years, deeply damaging to my own creativity and my sense of being a creative individual. Or is all of this an excuse?
Others seem to have no qualms sitting down to write, and just get on with it. Deadline or no deadline. I, on the other hand, make lists, procrastinate, beat myself up, ridicule myself, and give up before I've even put pen to paper or finger on keyboard. The deadly saboteur is well and truly alive in me. Not sure if NLP alone can tackle this strong critical voice. Believe it or not, there is a fear of failure and a fear of success. Which may make little sense to those who just write, who may not even have to edit out those critical voices, who are aware of their potent creativity and are happy to use that inherent talent and skill. And yes, I am envious of that. Or maybe it's not really like that at all, and people just don't wear their neuroses on their sleeves, as I do. In fact, I know that's true. But my blocks are still there, I just haven't managed to successfully edit them out yet. But I will.
So, what are the things I don't share? I've always believed I'm one of those people that wears their heart (and their neuroses) on their sleeve. But I also believe I hide my light under a bushel, I'm not aggressive in showing off my talents and saying look at me! Since being a young child I always wanted to write, then I wanted to be a journalist, then an actress. Alongside these aspirations was a deep belief I also wanted to help people, to heal people, that I could listen and absorb and not judge their darkest thoughts and secrets, that I wanted to be privy to their stories.
Over the years, I have doubted myself as a creative being. I'm pretty sure there is a link between the suppression of creativity and ensuing depression. So even though I'm slowly beginning to write for the sheer pleasure of writing I still can't share with others (particularly those who work in the arts / creative worlds) that I am creative, I long to write and have found the facilitation of other people's creativity over the years, deeply damaging to my own creativity and my sense of being a creative individual. Or is all of this an excuse?
Others seem to have no qualms sitting down to write, and just get on with it. Deadline or no deadline. I, on the other hand, make lists, procrastinate, beat myself up, ridicule myself, and give up before I've even put pen to paper or finger on keyboard. The deadly saboteur is well and truly alive in me. Not sure if NLP alone can tackle this strong critical voice. Believe it or not, there is a fear of failure and a fear of success. Which may make little sense to those who just write, who may not even have to edit out those critical voices, who are aware of their potent creativity and are happy to use that inherent talent and skill. And yes, I am envious of that. Or maybe it's not really like that at all, and people just don't wear their neuroses on their sleeves, as I do. In fact, I know that's true. But my blocks are still there, I just haven't managed to successfully edit them out yet. But I will.
Saturday, 21 February 2009
February is the cruellest month
This line from TS Eliot's The Wasteland has haunted me since I first read it. And I kinda agree with it. I feel like I deserve a bit of good news or maybe I'm not doing enough to make good things happen. Things are fine; but I don't want things to be just fine. So I'm beginning to think it's time to shake things up a bit, start to plan new challenges and crack on. I went for a job interview the other day and they said they would let me know by the end of the week. Still no news. I don't believe in no news is good news. The whole interview process was pretty odd to tell the truth; they talked more at me than asking questions, talked over one another, to each other, debated a bit each with other. I thought they were intrigued by me, but maybe that was all wrong. And doesn't necessarily lead to a job offer! So, back to the drawing board.
I'm struggling with the fact I have a foot in two worlds at the moment - the arts and psychotherapy. I don't want to choose between them but integration is yet to happen. On that note, I'm also struggling with crippling writer's block - part of me thinks I have nothing to write, nothing to say, the other part of me has vague lines or sentences, half-cocked ideas running through my head but that's it, there's nothing concrete to work from. I'm not going to buy any more books about giving permission to myself to write or anything like that, as inspiring as they are. I just need to write!
On a more positive note, I spied a purple crocus pushing through the murky ground this morning so there are signs of life after all. Hurrah for that.
I'm struggling with the fact I have a foot in two worlds at the moment - the arts and psychotherapy. I don't want to choose between them but integration is yet to happen. On that note, I'm also struggling with crippling writer's block - part of me thinks I have nothing to write, nothing to say, the other part of me has vague lines or sentences, half-cocked ideas running through my head but that's it, there's nothing concrete to work from. I'm not going to buy any more books about giving permission to myself to write or anything like that, as inspiring as they are. I just need to write!
On a more positive note, I spied a purple crocus pushing through the murky ground this morning so there are signs of life after all. Hurrah for that.
Saturday, 7 February 2009
Time to get back in the habit
Blimey, it's been a while since I wrote on here. I've dropped out of the habit and life has just been rolling me along with it recently. In Surrey, the ground is still very snowy and I'm desperate for some signs of life. Just one snowdrop or daff? I feel like I've been in hibernation mode mostly - I haven't seen any theatre shows, or exhibitions or even read any books. I did go on a date though - the first one since I've been single.
And it was all slightly disappointing if I'm honest. The boy was nice enough, seemed laid-back and not neurotic or too emotionally retarded (although he has got an interesting family background that would be fascinating to dissect). But there was nothing there. He didn't stimulate me intellectually or inspire me in any way - I don't think we even had that much to say to one another. Did I find him attractive? I think so, but after being single for a year, with pretty much no significant male company during that time, it's hard to tell whether it's just my hormones kicking in or specific attraction. He text me a few times but they were all pretty vague and to be honest I didn't know what to reply to him, felt bored and thought it was best all round if I deleted the text conversation and his number with it. He hasn't been in touch since so I'm presuming that the romance is well and truly over. At least I gave it a go and he wasn't an arsehole so there's hope yet. Maybe.
In other news, I'm still making copious lists of everything I need to do and still managing to ignore those lists and find other things to distract myself. Like bad TV. America's Next Top Model and now new Shipwrecked as well as seminal viewing Come Dine With Me and repeats of Poirot. Oh dear. I think it's time to un-hibernate myself and take some control...
And it was all slightly disappointing if I'm honest. The boy was nice enough, seemed laid-back and not neurotic or too emotionally retarded (although he has got an interesting family background that would be fascinating to dissect). But there was nothing there. He didn't stimulate me intellectually or inspire me in any way - I don't think we even had that much to say to one another. Did I find him attractive? I think so, but after being single for a year, with pretty much no significant male company during that time, it's hard to tell whether it's just my hormones kicking in or specific attraction. He text me a few times but they were all pretty vague and to be honest I didn't know what to reply to him, felt bored and thought it was best all round if I deleted the text conversation and his number with it. He hasn't been in touch since so I'm presuming that the romance is well and truly over. At least I gave it a go and he wasn't an arsehole so there's hope yet. Maybe.
In other news, I'm still making copious lists of everything I need to do and still managing to ignore those lists and find other things to distract myself. Like bad TV. America's Next Top Model and now new Shipwrecked as well as seminal viewing Come Dine With Me and repeats of Poirot. Oh dear. I think it's time to un-hibernate myself and take some control...
Monday, 22 December 2008
All the world is a mirror, not a stage
Life is quite strange sometimes isn't it. I had a wonderful evening with friends from my course on Friday night - lots of chat, laughter and profundity over good food and wine - my kind of evening. And then on Saturday evening, had the polar opposite experience - the disparity couldn't be clearer. I woke up on Sunday morning thinking what the hell was all that about? I don't know if it's something to do with the topic of conversation. After getting all heated about various issues we then moved onto the deadliest of them all - relationships. Such apparently innocent chat touches everyone's buttons - maybe aside from those who are newly loved-up, soul-mated for life or so drunk they are oblivious to what is being discussed. I admit, I find it difficult to watch someone making the same mistakes I did and just say to them that they need to go on the same journey. I just want to shake them and say don't be so bloody stupid - but that's actually not what is needed. What is needed is a sage nodding of the head and a listening, reflective ear. I have a long way to go to reach this point I have realised. I don't want my fellow women to make the same mistakes I have done - I want them to learn - but of course the only way they will learn is to make the same mistakes. So I'm going to start to learn how to nod sagely, hold back the instinct to shake them like a pepperpot and master the art of silence.
I also admit I'm not an expert on this subject - after all, I am single and have had quite a few catastrophic experiences over the past few years. And ultimately as long as I have learnt what I needed to from all of this then that is the most pertinent thing here. Doesn't matter what anyone else is learning as it's not my business. So who cares that someone is sleeping with their ex? Maybe he is using her, but maybe he's not. So what if someone just keeps entering into meaningless sex but they say they would like a life partner - maybe meaningless sex is what they need right now. I am not always right. Sometimes I'm very wrong. Sometimes I make mistakes. All I'm trying to do is search and find the truth. My truth. What's right for me.
I also admit I'm not an expert on this subject - after all, I am single and have had quite a few catastrophic experiences over the past few years. And ultimately as long as I have learnt what I needed to from all of this then that is the most pertinent thing here. Doesn't matter what anyone else is learning as it's not my business. So who cares that someone is sleeping with their ex? Maybe he is using her, but maybe he's not. So what if someone just keeps entering into meaningless sex but they say they would like a life partner - maybe meaningless sex is what they need right now. I am not always right. Sometimes I'm very wrong. Sometimes I make mistakes. All I'm trying to do is search and find the truth. My truth. What's right for me.
Thursday, 18 December 2008
Wintry fun
Quick catch-up. It feels like it's been a very busy week so far. I went to a lovely Christmas carol concert on Saturday evening with my girls. The first one for me this year and although it was truly wonderful and beautiful, I STILL don't feel that Christmassy. Maybe it's because I haven't actually bought any presents yet. The carol concert's venue was this absolutely stunning chapel called Grosvenor Chapel in Mayfair - it reminded me of the church in An English Patient when they go flying up the walls with lights. Anyway, it was a gorgeous venue lit with tea-lights which made me very happy. I've always believed in the healing power of music and at certain moments I could feel my soul fill up. Wonderful. After that, it was back to the pub for some Irish coffee and wine and than back to Hannah's floor for more vegging out. Sunday involved more food and drink at a very cosy pub in Shepherds Bush.
Monday consisted of catching up with my friend Chris. Chris is probably one of the funniest and smartest people I know and we always have a giggle. He was regaling me with tales of cutting his hand open (it was funny when he was telling the story) and various other strange observational tales. Tuesday, I met up with Kate to plot and plan for the play we are writing. All very exciting stuff but not going to say anymore about it just yet as it's still very early days. But I'm hoping it will help the creative juices flowing again after what feels like a very dry patch for quite some time. Wednesday, I had a very lovely stroll along the river and past all the Christmas markets. I do love London at Christmas time - it does Christmassy things very well. And then it was time for the work Christmas do which was great fun and just a little bit drunken. Phew. I think that's my week so far. Plenty more lovely things planned although I am feeling just a tad bit weary today but nothing that a bit of snoozing won't cure. I do need to do some Christmas shopping too so had better start thinking about that though no doubt I will be doing it on Christmas Eve, as always. I'm actually really looking forward to 2009 - I think it's going to be a good 'un...
Monday consisted of catching up with my friend Chris. Chris is probably one of the funniest and smartest people I know and we always have a giggle. He was regaling me with tales of cutting his hand open (it was funny when he was telling the story) and various other strange observational tales. Tuesday, I met up with Kate to plot and plan for the play we are writing. All very exciting stuff but not going to say anymore about it just yet as it's still very early days. But I'm hoping it will help the creative juices flowing again after what feels like a very dry patch for quite some time. Wednesday, I had a very lovely stroll along the river and past all the Christmas markets. I do love London at Christmas time - it does Christmassy things very well. And then it was time for the work Christmas do which was great fun and just a little bit drunken. Phew. I think that's my week so far. Plenty more lovely things planned although I am feeling just a tad bit weary today but nothing that a bit of snoozing won't cure. I do need to do some Christmas shopping too so had better start thinking about that though no doubt I will be doing it on Christmas Eve, as always. I'm actually really looking forward to 2009 - I think it's going to be a good 'un...
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
Eat, pray...love?
I'm finding that I have SO much going on in my head at any given time that a) action is lacking and b) I can't even seem to get words down on paper. Apologies if this turns into a rambling stream of consciousness with no apparent structure. What's been happening...well, to start on a rather sad note, a second person in a month decided it all had become too much to bear and committed suicide at Woking train station. Every time I arrive I arrive with some dread. Suicide doesn't disturb me - it's tragic and terribly terribly sad. Maybe it should disturb me but it doesn't. What disturbs me is the responses of my fellow passengers. A very irritating Australian man was on the phone for the entire journey and kept telling everyone he was speaking to that some selfish b*stard had thrown themselves under the train, how selfish, how selfish. Yes of course, my dear Australian man, that's the only thought that was in that poor man's head - god, I'd better not make some fat man late for his meeting in town / dinner date / boozy evening with his mates. I'm sure it's some sort of defense mechanism or just ignorance but I can't help but feel that some people really do feel very little for their fellow man - and that makes me mad more than anything. I could feel my hackles rise and it took all my self-restraint to not start ranting at him (preaching at him?).
The main thing eating up my brainpower at the moment is decision-making. The first year of my course is nearly over (it has gone so quickly!) but I have really struggled with the decision to continue on to the second year. Not because I don't enjoy it but because I've become so aware of that awful feeling that time is running out, and how can I pack everything I want to do, especially as they all seem to conflict. I'm a country girl at heart and don't want to stay living or working in the city. But in order to do my course I have to stay near London. On the other hand I'm a bit of a nomad, a free spirit and don't want to settle anywhere but I'm not quite ready to declare myself a hermit and live in some remote part of Wales or Dorset. I like people, I like having people around me. And if I commit to the next 4 years of my life to my course then I can't really escape at the drop of a hat - I've harboured desires to throw myself into an adventure, maybe the Clipper Race, or maybe just travelling round as I've never really done that. So, all these choices, all these decisions, and yet the inability to decide what I really want to do, where I am right now. So, I've decided to just let it all go and see what happens - that seems to work best for me and at least my head can stop aching from all the 'choices' I put in front of myself.
What I DO know is that although I might not be ready to love someone again I do need to make myself more open to the possibility, as scary as that is in itself. I'm reading Shakti Gawain's Living in the Light for the second time and two things really struck me this time around. She believes that until we are truly ready for a committed relationship with another it won't happen and that integrating all our selves is the greatest balancing act. This last thought really resonated with me as I can feel there are so many different parts to me - in psychosynthesis they call them subpersonalities, and yet I'm still unsure how I can integrate them all, how I can be everything I want to be, or rather be all of what I am. And as much as I found myself disagreeing with her comment about relationships, thinking I'm ready for a committed relationship with a wonderful partner who I can share my life with, I'm not sure if I am ready. I've just started reading Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert (an amazing book) and she talks about how in her time of abstinence she really misses kissing. So do I. I also really miss the power of human touch. But I also know that I need time to be with myself, or as one Starbucks poster says, be with the person who's always been there. So, maybe, just for now, I can concentrate on that and surrender myself to the possibilities.
The main thing eating up my brainpower at the moment is decision-making. The first year of my course is nearly over (it has gone so quickly!) but I have really struggled with the decision to continue on to the second year. Not because I don't enjoy it but because I've become so aware of that awful feeling that time is running out, and how can I pack everything I want to do, especially as they all seem to conflict. I'm a country girl at heart and don't want to stay living or working in the city. But in order to do my course I have to stay near London. On the other hand I'm a bit of a nomad, a free spirit and don't want to settle anywhere but I'm not quite ready to declare myself a hermit and live in some remote part of Wales or Dorset. I like people, I like having people around me. And if I commit to the next 4 years of my life to my course then I can't really escape at the drop of a hat - I've harboured desires to throw myself into an adventure, maybe the Clipper Race, or maybe just travelling round as I've never really done that. So, all these choices, all these decisions, and yet the inability to decide what I really want to do, where I am right now. So, I've decided to just let it all go and see what happens - that seems to work best for me and at least my head can stop aching from all the 'choices' I put in front of myself.
What I DO know is that although I might not be ready to love someone again I do need to make myself more open to the possibility, as scary as that is in itself. I'm reading Shakti Gawain's Living in the Light for the second time and two things really struck me this time around. She believes that until we are truly ready for a committed relationship with another it won't happen and that integrating all our selves is the greatest balancing act. This last thought really resonated with me as I can feel there are so many different parts to me - in psychosynthesis they call them subpersonalities, and yet I'm still unsure how I can integrate them all, how I can be everything I want to be, or rather be all of what I am. And as much as I found myself disagreeing with her comment about relationships, thinking I'm ready for a committed relationship with a wonderful partner who I can share my life with, I'm not sure if I am ready. I've just started reading Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert (an amazing book) and she talks about how in her time of abstinence she really misses kissing. So do I. I also really miss the power of human touch. But I also know that I need time to be with myself, or as one Starbucks poster says, be with the person who's always been there. So, maybe, just for now, I can concentrate on that and surrender myself to the possibilities.
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